


The Worst Damn Luck

by CapsuleCrisis



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragonball Z
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Analysis, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Getting to Know Each Other, Goku is a good father, Goku is more perceptive than everyone thinks, I have no idea how to tag this just get ready for some story tellin, Lots of plot whoo boy, M/M, Raditz has to wrangle his bro, Rivals, Saiyan Culture, Saiyans, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Those wily saiyan boys build a rebellion against Frieza, Vegeta is Stressed, Weird Alien Shit, space renegades
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapsuleCrisis/pseuds/CapsuleCrisis
Summary: Sure, things could have been different.He could have died along with the rest of those assholes.He tried not to dwell on the past (or so he says, but no one actually believes him).It just refused to leave him alone, over and over again.He wanted closure. Revenge, really.  There was no denying it.But who was left to stand with him?----An AU where the remaining Saiyans rally to build a rebellion against Frieza's forces.  Oh and they talk about feelings and feel some deep, weird emotions along the way.





	1. S.O.S. (Save Our Sanity)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monkey Prince is stressed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever DB fic and wow I sure hope I don't fuck it up. Taking the idea of Goku leaving earth before the major events of DBZ, coupled with some uhh space drama and eventual relationships because, well, feelings are complicated. Buckle up, buckaroo, it's gonna be a journey.

      Unremarkable.

      Through any lens, that’s all Earth was. Brown dirt, green vegetation, blue water. Gods, lots and lots and lots of deep blue water. Balanced atmosphere, decent climate in most regions. Well-adjusted, moderately intelligent life forms. Bio-diverse in its flora and fauna. Pretty, even downright picturesque in places, but nothing so outstanding that it merited going far out of one’s way to travel to. An insignificant mud ball, an outlier in an even more uninspired solar system on the edge of the Milky Way galaxy. There are plenty of planets in the universe just like the one called Earth, but they were blissfully unaware of that. The charming, backwoods planet had yet to develop a sustainable means of space travel (and probably wouldn’t any time soon, although the inhabitants seem pretty well pleased about having visited their desolate, tiny moon.) When a species is so solely focused on small feats, it is rather difficult to evolve and explore beyond their own short-sighted goals.

      Far from spectacular. Decently above mediocre.

      “Entirely unremarkable. The inhabitants literally named their planet after dirt...” a deep, steady voice drawled out, haughty and irritated, followed by the sound of a dramatic, drawn out, and down right _infuriating_ sigh. The weight of the sigh reverberated heavily through the small speaker nestled in his scouter, causing a certain Saiyan Prince to physically recoil at the sound. Apparently, the mid-class warrior on the other end was not thrilled with his current mission.

      Vegeta did not give a shit about keeping the damn brute happy.

      The young prince gripped a gloved hand over his own mouth, forcing air through his nostrils in a single, irritated stream while staring with great intensity at the console panel of his pod. It took every last ounce of his self-control not to punch a hole right through the small ship’s walls, allowing the vacuum of space to take him out of his misery. Tempting, given his current frustrations.

      “Go ahead, Raditz. Complain one more time about this assignment.”

      The intensity, the danger in these words rang true, palpable as the prince ground them out through gritted teeth, deliberate and slow. This was not lost on Raditz, who, certainly against better judgment, opened his mouth to protest despite the encroaching danger.   Barely a syllable escaped his lips before the prince cut him off and continued.

      “Mark my words, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to rip your mouth clean off of that smug fucking face of yours the next time I see you. In fact, I can reroute my coordinates right now, re-configure a bit of power here and there on this piece of shit pod so I can be there on that backwater planet to greet you when you land."  Vegeta massaged at his temples, trying desperately to remain calm.

      "Come on, Vegeta, isn't that a little harsh?  I mean, you gott-"  

      "It would be an honor..."  Vegeta loudly cut back in, as if Raditz hadn't spoken at all, "...No, an absolute _privilege_ to divest you of that gaping maw. Now stop wasting my time, this line may be encrypted, but every moment you waste complaining brings the likelihood of discovery closer and closer.” Every word flew out of the saiyan’s mouth with great and profound annoyance. He was tired, hungry. Bored out of his damn mind and, certainly, not in any mood to listen to some third-rate warrior’s gripes.

      A resolute snap of teeth sounded on the other end of the com. Raditz fell silent.

      A small, short-lived blessing.

      “I’ve just passed the planet’s moon, should be entering the atmosphere of the planet shortly. Damn, that’s a ton of water. Were there any notes on aquatic based societies on this planet? I really don’t feel like fucking around with diving, it takes my hair forever to dry. Gotta find a good place to land.” Raditz muttered through the com, mostly to himself. It was a nasty little habit that both Nappa and Raditz had developed over the years, Vegeta noted sourly. The pods were too small to be outfitted with proper projection terminals. Due to the lack of visuals, his comrades felt the need to narrate their every move. It could have been considered endearing if the prince didn’t find it so damn irritating.

      “What the hell did Bardock see in this place, anyways?” The mid class warrior hummed thoughtfully.  Sharp, artificial clicking sounded over the scouter, rapid in pace as Raditz typed out commands on his pod’s console. 

      “If we had the answers to what went on inside of your lunatic father’s head, we’d have a lot fewer problems on our hands. When you land, stay sharp.” Vegeta reclined back into his seat, the tip of his tail twitching as he tried to relax his body. Tensing up in such a small space was not going to do him any favors when he landed later on. “Why, indeed, did your father deploy a pod there without clearance all those years ago…” Gloved fingers drummed ceaselessly on the armrest.

      “Whatever Bardock had planned for my brother, it probably didn’t go well. The readouts for the planet show that Earth is still densely populated.” Raditz mused, the static of the com doing little to hide the forced indifference the warrior feigned whenever his family was mentioned. “No contact of any sort in decades, and now, suddenly, a hailing signal? I don’t like it. Plus his pod’s sensors reported a huge seismic reading alongside the signal. He might not even be alive. What if his pod just malfunctioned during an earthquake?” Vegeta could hear the large saiyan shifting around restlessly, followed by a small thunk, a groan, and a soft string of curses. The pods were cramped beyond the prince’s liking; he couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be for his larger comrades to settle in. He smirked at the thought of Raditz’s discomfort.

      “It’s worth investigating, regardless. Better for us to find a dead saiyan than to risk Frieza finding a live one. What you like or dislike never has, and never will, concern me. Find the pod. Disable that damn signal before Frieza’s lackeys becomes wise to it. Scout the planet. Sniff out that brother of yours. He’s probably gone entirely feral at this point, but do try to get some kind of comprehensive report from him.” The prince raised his hand to his scouter, his finger hovering over the button to end communication when a low, biting rebuttal sounded on the other end.

      “Better a feral brother than an exiled one…” Raditz grumbled.

      “Just figure it out, Raditz, or I’ll rip your fucking face off.” Vegeta tore his scouter off, denting the alloy, barely restraining himself from destroying the whole thing.   Bardock’s spawn had an uncanny ability to nettle and goad him at every turn, and he was not particularly jazzed about potentially bringing another of that bastard’s kin into the fold. But beggars can’t be choosers, and being prince to barely a handful of survivors was rapidly becoming more than just a sore spot. One more Saiyan, even a third-class reject, could tip the scales in his favor.

      A short bark of a laugh escaped the prince.

_More canon fodder._

      “Kakarot, you’d better be worth all of this.”

      Taking a deep breath, Vegeta inspected the warped frame of the scouter in his hands before putting it back on and pinging open another secured line on the com. He’d run small tests on several different frequencies before finding a secure one, and even that wouldn’t remain safe for long. Not with the way Frieza kept him monitored. Risky to do once, downright foolish to do twice. But he was running out of options.

      A moment later, a gravely voice piped up through the scouter with barely restrained excitement.

      “Prince Vegeta! Took a long enough nap over there, huh?” the new voice chuckled. Vegeta was in no mood for jokes. Not that he ever was.

      “Let’s wrap this mission up quickly, Nappa. I have a feeling that Raditz is going to need a hand wrangling his brother. If Kakarot ends up being anything like the rest of his family, it’s going to take more than that meathead can handle to get him to heel properly.”

      “This won’t take us longer than a day, that’s for sure. The planet’s full of rock people or some shit. Hot as hell. Terrible eating. We’re not gonna want to linger too long to begin with. We should have just gone along to Earth with that stupid furball in first place.” Nappa complained. The gruffness and sheer disapproval in Nappa’s tone was certainly not helping the simmering rage that Vegeta still held after his exchange with Raditz. He would have to put both of them in their places once these missions concluded.

      “Are you questioning my methods? What makes you think you can speak so candidly to your prince? Have all of my subordinates gone completely mental?” The younger saiyan spat, slamming his fists against his armrests in a downright childish, tantrum sort of a way.

      “Oh come on, my Little Prince, you’re just as crazy as the rest of us, sending us out on secret missions last minute like this.” Nappa chided, laughing incredulously at his prince’s irritation.

      A bold move.

      “Little Prince? Crazy? Are you fucking insane?” Vegeta screamed, his voice raising to a near hysterical pitch.   “You have stepped far and away over the line, Nappa. Reel it in, or I’ll eradicate you along with the other poor bastards we’re about to cull.” Vegeta gritted out, hackles raised, tail thrashing, seeing completely and totally in red.

      His head whipped up as he glared out of the small window of his pod. Vegeta could see the small, streaking light of Nappa’s pod in the distance. It would be so easy, so fucking easy to just take him out here and now. Accelerate his own pod, land on the planet first, take a shot from the ground and blow Nappa’s pod to kingdom come. The older saiyan meant well, but all too often he preached and prattled and provoked with undue familiarity. Riding a wave of confidence, hiding behind the idea of age and experience trumped Vegeta’s commands due to his youth. It infuriated him. The prince shook his head, trying to dispel his aggression. Much as he was loathe to admit, he needed Nappa right now.

      Punishment later.

      He took a deep, long breath.

      One.

      He ripped the armrests clear off of his seat.

      Two.

      He swiped a panel of no discernible importance clear off of the control panel, crushing it in his fist.

      Three.

      He let out a burning noise of sheer rage.  

_Breathe._

      Small rituals. Pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.   Gripping his hair in his hands until his scalp throbbed.   Squeezing his eyes shut until he saw white veins of lightning dancing across his vision.

      Gods, he was thankful to be alone right now.

      It infuriated him to show emotion of any kind around of his subordinates, but they were pushing him right past his carefully manicured limits.   Lately, his anger had become too intense to hold back. And these two buffoons were doing little, if anything at all, to placate their prince.

      Really, they have all been dangerously on edge as of late, Vegeta reasoned, feeling himself calm ever so slightly. Frieza decided to play a new game with them, realizing that withholding the saiyans from missions for extended periods of time upped their efficiency when they were actually deployed. Efficiency, as in their ability to quickly and ruthlessly slaughter and clear an entire planet. As if they weren’t already able to do so.

      It became a funny trick, an amusing game to Frieza, especially when he started to send Vegeta out on solo missions, just so the prince had to deal with the backlash of the other two saiyans upon his return. They roamed and raged around the outposts like beasts, barely able to keep to their rank, stir crazy and ready to kill. It fell to Vegeta, battered and bruised and thoroughly exhausted from his own missions, to subdue them.

      Abhorrent as it was, keeping them from deployment only served to make them irrational, like caged, cornered animals, and Frieza delighted in that discovery.  These missions had become their only outlet, satisfying their innate, primal desire to fight and grow stronger, and the tyrant knew that all too well.

      It was a show of power. Complete dominance over a race that thrived on advancing their development, on cultivating strength, a desire that was bastardized again and again under the tyrant’s rule, reduced to the more base pleasures of battle, slaughter, and conquering. He left them idle on satellite outposts, ready to explode at the smallest provocation.

      This most recent mission came after a particularly long dry spell, so all three warriors were feeling acutely aggressive. Keeping this in mind, Vegeta finally calmed down enough to realize that he owed Nappa at least a little insight into his methods.

      “It would have been too suspicious if we headed off course of our mission, at least all at once. We can scramble the signal on Raditz’s pod without raising too many flags.” His breathing evened out as he spoke. He silently hoped Nappa had enough sense to not comment on the sudden, violent outburst that occurred only moments prior.

      “And what about when you and I finish this mission, eh? I’ll tell ya, it don’t feel right, sending me off to some pig-shit planet on the other end of the quadrant while you solo our missions for the next few months. You really want me to fetch your little brother that bad, huh? Must be a grand ol’ time for you and Raditz both, about to be reunited with your families. We should have a big fucking party.” Bitterness soaked through Nappa’s words, surprising Vegeta. It certainly was strange luck that two of the surviving, missing saiyans were directly related to himself and Raditz, respectively. He did not think that something as paltry as blood ties like that would affect Nappa in so negative a fashion. He filed that away for later.

      “We have left him isolated for far too long. He is only safe because Father never made Tarble’s exile public, so for all Frieza knows, he perished along with the others during the asteroid strike. If we are to make moves, I am going to need him.” Vegeta reasoned, choosing to ignore Nappa’s increasingly belligerent commentary. The prince was too busy concentrating on fighting back a building, blinding headache.

      “But won’t he end up just being more of a burden to us? He has no desire to fight!” the older saiyan argued, unable to mask his skepticism.

      “Regrettably. Who knows if his desires have changed during his exile.” Vegeta mused. He was admittedly hesitant to believe that his brother suddenly gained a thirst for battle, but he couldn’t completely rule out the possibility. “Tarble is still my brother, and more importantly, he is still your prince. I will make him fight, if I must. We’ll need someone diplomatically minded on our side if we are to start anew as a people.”

      “Prince Vegeta, I understand, but I still don’t feel right leaving you alone.” The audio from Nappa’s end sounded distorted, patchy. Vegeta tensed. This conversation needed to end.

      “What other way is there, Nappa?” His voice came out strained, tired.  “I’m the only one who cannot possibly escape Frieza’s scrutiny. If you go off for a bit, it’ll be far easier for me to cover for you. I can claim that we got separated en route to base, lost all communications because of a solar flare, caught in a cosmic storm while in stasis. Anything. Frieza won’t waste his time and energy looking for you, especially if I seem bothered by your absence. He derives great pleasure from my misfortunes. If it were the other way around, he’d comb the entire universe looking for me. No, you have to do this. We must all do out part. Alone.” The finality in the smaller saiyan’s voice brokered no argument. He was exhausted. He’d been planning, waiting, looking for the right opportunity to strike for far too long for his subordinates to get in the way. Being idle was no longer an option.

      There was absolutely no room for error.

      Cresting into their view was their target planet, deep purple and shimmering with red veins of lava. The entire surface of the planet exuded a menacing aura. Frieza wanted this plant for its rich ore deposits, it was to be sold off purely as a mining resource to the highest bidder. The Icejin had every intention of taking a cut of the profit from whatever was mined there, as well. Whatever bidder bought the planet would be in Frieza’s back pocket for the entirety of the excavation. He was a shrewd and ruthless businessman, which made the tyrant even more reprehensible and downright terrifying.

_What a shithole._

      “I was out of line, my Prince. My apologies.” Nappa uttered after a time, strangely subdued after absorbing the gravity of what they were about to do.

      “I barely need you on these missions to begin with. Question my methods again, and I’ll make certain that you won’t be.” Vegeta ended the communication, huffing as he prepared himself to enter the planet’s atmosphere. He could feel the adrenaline of the impending purge hitting him, sending shocks of violent red pressure behind his eyes.

      He wanted to break something. Someone. This planet had no moon, so he’d have to make his own. There was no way this rage could be satisfied without a good old-fashioned oozaru rampage.

      He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. There was no guaranteeing that covertly gathering lost saiyans would give him an advantage over Frieza. But he needed something to cling to, some small hope. Every year that passed under the Icejin’s regime, Vegeta felt less and less like himself. He refused to break. He would not be cowed. But he was getting… tired. And he needed to jump at every opportunity, take advantage of any leverage he could get, no matter how small.

      Vegeta glared at the debris his pod had accumulated during his little fit of rage, smirking as he realized he could just make Nappa switch ships with him after this.

_Let the big bastard be uncomfortable during the next phase of the mission._

      A crazed smile crept onto his face as the pod prepared to breach the planet’s atmosphere. This poor planet had no idea what kind of hell it was about to enter. Vegeta felt a rush, a creeping sense of crazed euphoria.

      He couldn’t wait to get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowee zowee, what could these wild saiyan boys possibly be up to?
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated, I know its tough to gauge a story just from one chapter, but I always like throwing that out there.
> 
> (Also, I'm looking for a potential beta reader for this fic, as well as for some future ideas. My ((thirst)) twitter is @capsulecrisis , feel free to hit me up there if you ever wanna talk shop. Or just to chat about fun DBZ pairings and nonsense like that in general.)


	2. I found happiness (but there could always be more)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finer points of domestic living.

        _Breathe._

       He waited, toes curling into the mud, silent. Eyes closed, knees bent. Hands held up at the ready, fingers spread wide and loose. Breathing slow, steady, undetectable. Time slowed. The insistent flow of the river tugged at his ankles, tempting him to move.   Recent thaws made the current especially persuasive. Caressing, warm rays of springtime sunlight gently returned to the mountains, compelling icy currents to flow with renewed gusto towards the large spring below.

       Seconds, minutes.

       Hours passed.

      He felt it. A small spark of life. Every living thing on earth generated ki, familiar, warm, important to know. To feel. To understand the ebbs and flows of the living creatures around him. With remarkable dexterity and speed (uncanny, practically inhuman), the young man thrust his right arm into the river, hauling out with equal speed his prize; a large, thrashing, pink and gray fish. Son Goku, eyes bright and wide and full of stars, laughed in earnest, proud of how swiftly he was able to catch his prey. The young man used his free hand to rub an itch that had blossomed under his nose as he waded back towards the shoreline, grinning the whole way.

      “That should just about do it!” he stated cheerfully to no one in particular, tossing the catch into an already overflowing, waist-high wicker hamper. Much to his initial chagrin, Chi-Chi had asked for smaller fish for tonight’s dinner. The last time Goku brought home a huge monster of a fish, she damn near had to crawl inside of it to properly gut it. Admittedly, it had been pretty damn funny to watch her struggle and shriek at the messy affair. A dopey, lopsided grin crept onto the young man’s face as he recalled how damn stinky his wife was that evening, how she had howled with laughter as he hoisted her into their little outdoor bath, open air, chilled, staring at the stars and stinking to high-heaven. Not such a bad price to pay for a good meal.

      It didn’t really matter to him. Chi-Chi’s cooking was always great, no matter the ingredients.  So even though he preferred diving recklessly into the lakes to find and fight the biggest prey he could find, he decided to make the best of it. There was always some new way to train, if you bothered to look.  Every moment could be used as a chance for growth. An opportunity to cultivate a skill, to refine a technique. Even the most mundane of tasks could be spun advantageously, if you approached it the right way.

      It's all about perspective.

      The soft, silty sands of the winding riverbed provided a serene training ground. He had to be gentle, suppressing his ki to blend in with his surroundings, lowering his defenses while sharpening his senses. An exercise in restraint. If a giant, hulking bear could fish in the river with ease, so could he.

      The young warrior shivered as a gentle, chilly breeze coursed down the riverbank. At present, the top of his vibrant orange gi was folded down and tucked into his sash, his pant legs rolled up so he could comfortably wade in the river. Small rivulets of water and sweat coursed down his torso, outlining his well-developed physic. Goku adjusted his gi properly before hefting the straps of the container over his shoulders, swinging the load into place for the hike back home.

      Training kept him busy, but he felt himself getting restless. Longing for another tournament, another big challenge.  Impatience weighed heavily on the young martial artist. His friends seemed too busy with their own lives to care much about fighting anymore. And even when they came around, they weren’t terribly keen on sparring with him.

      He was too strong for them.

      Sometimes he could feel Piccolo’s energy cresting on the edge of the mountain range, watching, waiting. But his rival never came close enough to challenge him. It unnerved and excited Goku to know that someone so powerful had him under close scrutiny, but it irritated him to be kept at arms length. Even now he could sense his rival out there, waiting.

_Maybe I’ll challenge him tomorrow._

      He scratched his head absently, fingers scrabbling over an old, rough scar nestled under his dark, wild hair. It’s not like he wanted to go looking for trouble, per say, but there was something pulsing deep in his bones that he couldn't ignore. A compulsion that he needed indulge in or he’d go absolutely nutty. It had been so long since he had a good match, since facing an opponent who could truly challenge him.

      Stagnation.

      Sometimes the overwhelming calm of the day smothered him, leaving him breathless and anxious.  Coiled, raw, aggressive.  Stifling, crashing against him in waves.  Usually a good hunt or swim calmed him down, but not always.  No one really knew, and he wanted to keep it that way.  When he was younger, he confided in Krillin, haltingly telling his best friend about how he had to, he absolutely _needed_ to fight, to break something.  Krillin had laughed uncomfortably, telling Goku that he was bonkers, brushing off his feelings completely.  Goku never mentioned it again, not to anyone. 

      He tried not to dwell on it.

      Soft light blinked through the canopy of trees, dancing across his skin as he walked. Recently, the days seemed to stretch on forever. Not necessarily in an unpleasant way, but routines had a tendency to perpetuate a level of monotony. The young martial artist had spent much of his time like this when he was younger, hunting and training alone. He shook his head, trying to dispel a small, sneaking voice of malcontent that began to wriggle into the forefront of his mind.  

      At the end of the day, he had a family waiting at home, ready and eager to greet him. It was an unexpectedly pleasant part of the package deal of growing up. They meant the world to him.

      That counted for something.

      It was nice, having companions, having a whole damn family. It reminded him of the innocent time spent joyously with his grandfather in his youth. What was the point in training and exploring if he didn’t have someone to share his adventures with? Someone to push him and help him explore his limits?

      He approached a small clearing, through which he caught the first glimpse of a small, cozy home.   Nestled perfectly into place, it was so carefully manicured that Goku could still scarcely believe it was his.

      Home.

      He swelled with pride, puffing out his chest as he marched towards the house. Married life certainly was… an adjustment. Chi-Chi proved to be an incredibly affectionate wife, firm but fair. Cautious, but nothing short of loving as a mother.

      Goku cared deeply for her.

      It was cute, sometimes her cheeks would turned red and get all puffed out in frustration. Chi-Chi did her best to be patient and kind when it came to explaining the finer points of matrimony to him, but sometimes the nuances just didn't click. Occasionally she lost her cool, but Goku didn’t mind. It excited him to see that fire ignite within her, just like it had when they were kids. After all, his wife was the daughter of the esteemed Ox-King, so it made sense that she’d be of the stubborn type; a princess living up to her family’s namesake.

      Small bumps and confusing roadblocks aside, Goku didn’t think he was doing such a bad job of the whole “having a family” thing. And best of all, because he married another martial artist, she didn’t ride him too hard for wanting to train all of the time. However, she was still wary about handing him the reins on training with their tiny son.

      ( _“He’s only three, Goku! Be patient, one punch from you right now and he’ll break apart_!”)

      On the principal of practicality, she allowed the boys to practice some basic forms. And, much to Goku’s delight, Chi-Chi still sparred lightly with him from time to time, as she admitted to not wanting her abilities to go to waste.   The soul and fire of a martial artist still flowed through her veins, and even though she wanted her son to become a scholar, she knew that there were horrors in the world worth preparing for. Their tiny home was surrounded by beasts and monsters, creatures that bumped in the night, that howled in the mountains. Protecting and nurturing Gohan was certainly a priority for both parents, even if they sometimes had different schools of thought on how to go about doing so.

      Goku smiled, toothy and wide, as he approached his little home.   There was a little spring to his step. He just couldn’t help it.

      Grandpa Gohan would have been beyond thrilled to see how he settled in. Thinking about the gentle old man made Goku sad sometimes, but he knew better than to mope. Instead, he vowed to live to the fullest in his honor. He hoped he was doing just that. It was a work in progress.

      Life really was pretty damn good.

      “Daddy!”

      A high pitched, joyous shout brought Goku out of his revere, followed by the tiny, brightly clothed form of his small son zipping into his arms. Goku laughed heartily, easing the straps of the basket off and settling it on the ground before catching his small, bouncing son.

      “Woah, Gohan! You’re getting really good at flying, buddy!” The pair of them giggled wildly.  Goku pulled his son close, wrapping him in a bear hug, the boy squirming and laughing all the while.  The scent of dusty paper and fresh grass rolled off of the small boy, invoking images of a long, lazy day spent reading in the sun.

      Gohan squealing with delight as his father held him aloft, making silly noises, just like a propeller plane. Goku ran around with his son raised above his head, the child’s delighted laughter echoing throughout the yard. After a few laps, the warrior brought his son to rest on his shoulders. Gohan’s tiny fingers gripped desperately into his father’s hair, steadying himself, his little brown tail whipping back and forth in sheer delight. Goku’s face pinched in pain as his son tugged at his hair, eliciting a small, sharp hiss, sucking a breath in through his teeth. Gohan took no notice.

      “Daddy! Did you know a big turtle carries the whole world on its back? Everything lives on it. Like trees! And dogs! It even carries our house. That’s where we live!” Gohan called out, breathless and rosy cheeked from speaking too fast, his mind working quicker than his mouth could move. He pulled once again on his father’s hair as he tried to lean forward, eyes bright. His current vantage point was not ideal for seeing his father’s face and he wanted to fix that, despite Goku grimacing at the sudden, insistent tugs.

      “No way! A giant turtle, huh?  That's wild!” Goku’s skull shook and rattled as Gohan rocked against the back of his head. The toddler threw his tiny body into an overly enthused, full body nod, his excitement too big for his little form to contain.

      “Yeah! A whole big one, I saw a picture. It’s in one of my books. I’ll show you!” Gohan raised one hand, pointing to the doorway, like a triumphant general signaling his troops to charge.

      “Gohan, you’re gonna scramble my brain right up if you keep shakin’ around like that!” Goku laughed, kneeling down to safely deposit his son onto the ground. In one swift motion, he scooped up the basket of fish and started towards the house, Gohan eagerly running ahead so he could prepare the right book to show his father. Chi-Chi appeared in the doorway, waving to her husband. She let out a little noise of surprise as Gohan bounded right in between her legs on his way in.

      “He’s discovered an old book of legends and has been attached to it all day. I don’t think our son is ever going to give up on thinking that we’re hitching a ride on a giant reptile.” Chi-Chi said by way of greeting, a tired but genuine smile on her face. She went up on her tip-toes to kiss her husband on the cheek.

      She smelled warm, like lavender and honey and lemongrass.

      “Aww, Chi-Chi, that’s not such a bad thing, is it?  Kinda fun, thinking we’re just floatin’ down on a space river or something like that! Ah, wait, don’t move.” Goku casually reached out and brushed away a streak of flour from Chi-Chi’s face, lingering to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. For some reason that he couldn’t discern, her face turned as red as a tomato and she gently shoed his hand away.  

      “Geeze, was there another earthquake while I was away? I coulda sworn I picked up all of his books this morning.” Goku joked as he glanced over at his son, who was currently tearing through the living room, his tail swishing around with reckless abandon as he searched for his new favorite book. Piles and piles of books covered the floor, subjects ranging from art to history, from social sciences to farming. A compendium on fungi sprawled open-faced on one pile, its pages displaying colorful, detailed diagrams.

      “Oh Goku-sa, Kami forbid! That quake was so awful, I thought the whole house was going to fall down.” Chi-Chi chided with a dismissive wave as she ushered her husband into the kitchen, nervous laughter in her voice. “Dad visited while you were fishing. Of course, he brought along a few new books and filled his head with all of these new stories. He’s going to spoil your son rotten, you know.” Chi-Chi shook her head, exasperated. A cheeky smile lifted the corner of her lips, betraying that she was all too pleased to see that her son took so kindly to his grandfather.

      “A few new books? There’s gotta be like a hundred in that pile! If he keeps that up, we’re gonna need a whole room just for books!” Goku blinked rapidly, amazed and amused by his father-in-law’s tendency to go overboard.

      “Now that’s a pretty little idea! A personal library is exactly what Gohan needs.  I'll ask Dad if he can build one.” Chi-Chi smoothed her hands over her cheeks, relishing in the idea. Goku made a noise of mock disgust and clicked his tongue in disapproval. She swatted his arm.

      “It’s too bad I missed the old man’s visit, I woulda loved to spar with him.” Goku gave his wife a lopsided smile as he hefted his catch onto the counter.

      “And that, darling, is exactly why he left before you got home. He didn’t want to get walloped by you, there’s only so many defeats his fragile ego can take, Goku.” She bumped her hip playfully into him, nudging him aside so she could inspect what she’d shortly be turning into their dinner.

      “Spicy fish stew? Dumplings? Oh, oh! And some of those little pickled radishes?” Goku suggested hopefully, hovering over his wife’s shoulder as she worked.

      “Let me handle the menu, you nosey man! You’ll love it, don’t worry. If you have all this time to hover, you could at least start washing the rice for me!”

      A soft, frustrated whimper sounded from the living room, and the young parents looked to their son, who was just about ready to have a full-scale, threat-level midnight toddler _meltdown_ because he couldn’t find what he was looking for. The two exchanged a knowing look. Taking this serendipitous occurrence as, quite frankly, the most _perfect_ excuse in the world for getting out of helping out with dinner, Goku made his way over to his pouting son and scooped him up off of the floor.

      “Come on, kiddo, let’s go outside and train while your mom makes dinner.  That way we can work up a real appetite!” The young warrior tucked his pouting son under one arm like a sack of flour, hefting him with ease back outside.

      “Don’t you dare let him get too dirty, Goku! And only warm-up Tai Chi forms, please! I don’t want him all wound up before bed!” Chi-Chi called after them. She was still wary about her husband training their son in martial arts, though she acknowledged and accepted that some form of training was necessary. She had to pick and choose her battles.

      “Alright Gohan, show me what you’ve got!” Goku placed his son on the lawn, backing away a few paces and making a big show of stretching. His son quickly perked up and emulated his moves, his cheeks puffed out and eyes narrowed in concentration. Concerns of his missing book seemed worlds away.

      The young martial artist started running through some basic forms, impressed not only by his son’s enthusiasm, but his rapt attention to detail. His form wasn’t perfect, as his tiny limbs didn’t really allow for fluid movement, but Gohan was certainly holding his own, all too eager to try out cool moves just like his dad.

      “Ah! This is hard!” Gohan cried out, falling flat on his bum as he tried to shift from ‘High Pat on Horse’ into a far reaching ‘Right Heel Kick’. Tears welled in the corner’s of the boy’s eyes, threatening to fall in big, sloppy streams.

      Not good.

      “Hey, don’t worry about it! You have to focus more on your frame, Gohan. You’re still a little guy, so you can’t stretch out and reach the same way I can!” Goku slowly showed his son the form once more, hands cradled loosely together, fully extending his right leg out and up, until his calf aligned parallel to his head. He carefully rebalanced his center of gravity to accommodate the stretch, holding the pose for several counts before relaxing his leg back down to the ground.

      “See, my legs are a heck of a lot longer than yours, so it’s not gonna look exactly like what I did, but that’s okay. You’ll get there! Here, lemme help ya out.” Goku helped his son up, correcting his form and helping him transition between the movements more slowly.  He coerced his son to wrap his tail around his waist, as well, since the furry appendage kept tripping the small boy up.

      “Oh! I think I got it, Daddy! Look!” Gohan was practically vibrating with excitement as he transitioned between forms with newfound ease. Goku whooped in delight, beaming at his son’s progress.

      The evening carried on as the two of them ran through several sets.  The setting sun casting a soft, golden hue, accompanied by a pleasant evening chill. The smell of a sumptuous, hearty dinner wafted in their direction, and the bellies of both Son boys rumbled in hearty anticipation.

      “Dinner’s ready!” Chi-Chi called, leaning out of the kitchen window, her cheeks flushed. She smiled at the sight of her boys, rolling her eyes and laughing at how they scrambled to get inside. All too often, Goku acted just like a little kid.  Gohan, on the other hand, showed a level of clarity that even few adults seemed to posses. But at the end of the day, they were both big goofballs. Strange but marvelous, the two of them. She settled in next to her husband as he tucked into the meal with gusto.

      A little slice of heaven.

      Dusk settled in gently, and the family finished up the last, delectable bites of their meal. As Goku stood to clear away the dishes, he suddenly froze, his eyes narrowing. Stacks of bowls and plates rocked precariously in his arms.

      Something was off. A sudden, immense ki, all crimson and fire, hit his senses. Acrid, pulsing energy overwhelmed, consumed him. He’d never felt anything like it before. Terrible, immense, and hurtling with colossal speed right towards their little home.

      “Get down!” he shouted, just as resounding boom, deeper than any thunderclap, combined with a flash of blinding light rocked their home.   The entire structure rumbled and shook. Chi-Chi gasped, grabbing Gohan and diving under the kitchen table without missing a beat. The dishes stacked in Goku’s arms fell unceremoniously to the ground, the crashing coupled with the quake making Gohan cry out in fear. In a matter of moments, the shaking stopped, items around the whole house displaced and shattered in the wake of the shock. Goku crouched at the ready, his posture defensive.

      There was something outside.

      “It’s okay, Gohan, it was just another tremor. It’s over now, baby, it’s okay.” Chi-Chi soothed, clutching to her sobbing son. The small boy had his tail wrapped tightly around his mother’s wrist as she rubbed her hand in soothing circles over his back. The young woman stared quizzically at her still crouching husband. How had he felt the quake before it happened?

      “Chi-Chi, stay inside. That wasn’t a quake.” The young warrior stood, his body rippling with tension as he made his way towards the door. Whatever was out there, it’s ki was completely foreign and crazy high. Unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Not even King Piccolo at his peak could compare.

      Through the windows, a thick, steady plume of smoke could be seen trailing from the base of a nearby mountain. Goku was shaking. Sweating. Adrenaline coursed through his body, coiling and curing throughout his insides, tearing up his core. He felt like he was going to throw up. Like his blood was boiling over, his veins on fire. His entire body surged with energy, and he had the sudden, craziest desire to break something, to rip his tiny house to shreds and rampage towards the mountains. As his shaking hand reached for the doorknob, anxiety tying his stomach in knots, he was stuck with an odd realization.

      He wasn’t afraid.

      He was _ecstatic._

      Elated. Downright dizzy with excitement.  Whoever, whatever was out there, this could be the challenge he’d been waiting for.  He tried not to dwell on how thoroughly outclassed he was, shoving down that small voice that in the back of his head that called him a fool, that told him to be cautious.

      "Goku-sa, what are you doing?  Don't go out there, it could be dangerous!"  Chi-Chi emerged from under the table, still clutching their small, shaking son to her chest.  The young warrior looked back at his wife, eyes narrowed, head cocked curiously to the side.  She knew that look, and she hated it.  Battle lust.  His usual soft, pleasant features hardened and warped, rigid and determined.

      He opened the door, launching himself from the doorway straight up into the night sky, straight towards danger, ignoring his wife’s cries of protest as they faded to nothing in his wake.

      Recklessness suited him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter up right after the first, I think these first two are important for setting the tone for the meat of the story. Given the circumstances that unfold, context on established relations are important to present. 
> 
> I've always actually really enjoyed the idea Goku and Chi-Chi together, but I feel like Chi-Chi's character really suffered after DB, making her a one dimensional harpy of a person, which really sucks! She's so much more than she's given credit for. I never want to erase her, or her role in Goku's life. 
> 
> That being said, while Goku certainly harbors affections for Chi-Chi, I'm banking on his younger self not quite feeling fully fulfilled, not really understanding or relating to the kind of love that Chi-Chi feels for him. He's uhhh emotionally constipated when it comes to love. And she did straight up trick him into marriage. He's doing his best, enjoying himself, and certainly grateful for the companionship. But its more that it's mutually beneficial, comfortable relationship for him as opposed to feeling heavy romantic inclinations towards her.


	3. First Impressions (Wait, can I get a do-over?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brothers meet.  
> Brothers beat the shit out of each other.  
> You know, like they do.

_“Hey Dad, when can he fight?”_

_Eyes wide with curiosity, Raditz peered up at the tank.   Gentle, sterile blue light cast his face in an eerie glow. He hated the quiet, alien nature of this place, the constant beeping of equipment, the numbered displays and diagrams that made no sense to him. The youngster gripped the ledge of the infant holding tank, trying to hoist himself up for a better look at his baby brother, a small thing suspended in the viscous liquid inside._

_“He won’t. Kakarot’s a dud.” Bardock gripped the back of his older son’s neck, his hand weaving through a sea of dark hair to find purchase on the youth’s nape, hauling him unceremoniously away from the tank._

_“Don’t get attached. If word of his weakness gets out, the King will order his termination. The only thing keeping the kid from closer scrutiny right now is the fact that you’re already a member of the Prince’s retinue. They expect Kakarot to be strong, as well.” The hardened, scarred warrior scowled, a line of tension running through his jaw. He laid his hands gently on the tank containing his son, as if the transference of energy from touching the glass would harm the boy inside._

_“So what... what’s that mean?” Raditz’s tail flicked back and forth, his tiny mind not comprehending the concept of anxiety, but feeling on edge all the same. He’d never seen his father act this way. He always seemed so strong and sure. Like he always had a plan, and even if it went wrong, that would have been his plan all along._

_Inside the tank, Kakarot stretched, his tiny fists clenched as he raised his arms above his head. His eyes fluttered open, blurred in the waters of the tank, taking a moment to register that he had visitors. The small saiyan stretched his tiny fingers towards his father’s hands._

_“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of things.” Bardock said, his voice soft._

_Raditz knew his father’s words weren’t meant for him anymore._

\------

      “Ah fuck, that was rough.” Raditz mumbled, shaking his head fiercely, his dark mane of hair falling in front of his face. His eardrums thrummed, rocked by the searing pitch of some hugely unwelcomed tinnitus, an unfortunate side effect of one too many haphazard planetary landings. The changes in atmospheric pressures and gravity often took a toll, no matter how much he trained his body to adapt. Without a station to dock, these pod landings were just a big fuck all of trying to find the path of least resistance upon impact, hoping that your skull didn’t go careening through the walls in the meantime.

      The large saiyan warrior let out a low growl, scrubbing his fingers roughly against his scalp, making his already crazy, voluminous hair stand even more on end. A low hiss cut through the ringing in his ears as the cabin depressurized, the sound and force of it making his ears pop, curbing a bit of the noise that rattled his brain. With one swift motion, he kicked the door of his pod open, relishing in the first taste of fresh air he’d had in days.

      Pulling himself out of the pod, Raditz let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He was currently in what seemed like a ravine cradled deep between two mountains. The depth and breadth of said ravine was made even worse due to the not so subtle crater his pod’s impact had created. The sky was rapidly growing dark, the air pleasantly chilled. His tail unfurled, swaying delicately, betraying his pleasure at being on solid ground. A shiver of anticipation ran down his spine.

      “Finally. Now let’s see what the hell’s so special about this dirtball.” It had been quite some time since Raditz had been on a solo mission. He wasn’t nervous, per say, but it made him feel a bit more confident and secure to speak aloud.

      The saiyan smoothed his hair out of his eyes, rapidly adjusting to the fading light of the planet. With the tap of a button, his scouter chirped to life. The green glass display buzzed with a myriad of symbols in Galactic Standard, flashing across his vision in rapid succession. He’d programed his landing to be near the supposed coordinates of Kakarot’s pod, but upon a cursory visual inspection, the other pod was nowhere to be seen. However, the distress signal’s beacon pinged softly on his scouter, so it had to be nearby. Readouts for the planet seemed normal, in line with the reports he’d dug up in transit. The scouter picked up a few insubstantial, throwaway power levels, mostly twos and fives. Probably animals. He cycled through a few settings on the scouter, allowing the program’s range to reach further throughout the planet. Several, more notable power levels popped up, but they were miles and miles off.

      Odd. None of them seemed distinctly powerful, but they certainly brought the warrior pause. A handful in the lower hundreds, one in the mid hundreds. If this was all that the planet had to offer, then why hadn’t Kakarot destroyed them already? Even more puzzling, none of these readings seemed powerful enough to even remotely resemble a saiyan’s raw power. He knew his brother had an extremely low readout as a cub, but it still should have been enough power to handle this planet over time. He put his hands on his hips, the tip of his tail flicking in bewilderment.

      “This is so stupid… Where the hell are you, Kakarot? Damn, I don’t even want to see this guy.” Raditz ran one hand over his face in frustration. He’d spent his whole life carefully and comfortably detached from the memory of his family. Losing his parents had sucked, of course it was difficult. But he never admitted it out loud, preferring apathy in lieu emotion just as his comrades did, suffering in silence in order to survive.   There had been no time to mourn, no room in his heart to harbor that kind of loss. It was easier to close himself off, to write his race off as weak and deserving of destruction. Hell, Kakarot was just a cub the last time he’d seen him. Raditz couldn’t see the point in caring about someone that he’d never even known, blood relations be damned.

      And yet…

      There was something terrifying about suddenly knowing he could be alive. Knowing that he could have a brother, a chance at having family, having something that had been completely denied to him.   There was no room for anything remotely close to that in Frieza’s army. The tyrant’s lackeys (as well as the tyrant, himself,) delighted in keeping the small group of remaining saiyans down. They were a constant target of the other warriors, always in danger of, at the very least, some vicious mockery, and at worst, repeated emergency visits to the healing tanks. There’s never been a safe place for them to run to. Raditz couldn’t even begin to fathom what he would do with a brother, especially one who was so far removed from everything he’d been going through. What would it be like to have family in your corner?

      Hope was such a dangerous, stupid thing to have.

      “You’d better be dead, you asshole. Avoiding this life for so long…” A low growl escaped his throat. Fingers flexed anxiously.

      Duty kept him bound. Loyalty to Prince Vegeta, never a doubt. Never a question. But hope added a different, dangerous variable. Embittered from the years spent in Frieza’s army, used like animals, like rabid dogs, Raditz was left wondering, _hoping_ that there would be another path for him to one day take. It ate away at him, leeching his sanity. A slow poison.

      There had to be something else.

      Raditz knew that Vegeta had a plan, even if the details were kept hidden from him. They were teetering on the edge of a revolution. Maybe finding Kakarot would be the last push that Vegeta needed to actually outmaneuver Frieza. This distress signal might be the best bit of luck they’ve had in a while. But the saiyan warrior couldn’t help but to resent the thought of his brother carrying out a carefree existence here in the meantime. He cracked his knuckles, the very thought making him want to beat the shit out of Kakarot.

_I’m fucking starving._

      There was no use in worrying about what was going to happen without having a little food first. Frankly, he was too distracted by his hunger to make real sense of anything right now. He’d find the pod, and hopefully Kakarot along with it, right after finding some damn food. The warrior took to the skies, keying in on some of the smaller, clustered power sources, coming across a sizable herd of quadruped mammals settled in a forest clearing, all lanky limbs and delicately horned.

      Without preamble, Raditz fired off several ki blasts at the unsuspecting herd, immolating half of the defenseless creatures before descending to consume his prey. He was pleasantly surprised at how tasty the game was, tucking in with reckless abandon, tearing through skin, rendering flesh from bone with sharp teeth and nails. Fresh, warm blood coursed down his throat, kicking his animalistic appetite into overdrive. His eyes practically rolled back in his head in his fervor to consume, paying no heed to anything remotely resembling tableside decorum.

      The warrior was halfway through demolishing his second kill, face and hands covered in blood and viscera and bits of flesh, when his scouter alerted him to some unusual activity. Several of the far-off powers were on the move, seeming to convalesce in one area. Even as a collective group, the power levels that gathered barely reached Raditz’s own level. But it was still worth keeping an eye on.

      Raditz absently licked the wet, tacky remains of the meal from his hands, standing up from his brief reverie to amble casually towards a nearby stream, his attention still focused on the strange movement. He knelt down to quickly try and wash the mess from his face and arms, but ended up doing a piss poor job of it. His armor was still splattered in blood.

      The hazards of hunting.

      He froze. A new power source spiked nearby, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, sending his scouter’s sensors abuzz with a flurry of fluctuating readings, flashing out warnings in neon symbols. The warrior leapt up in one fluid motion, spinning around, his hair whipping wildly in his wake, dark eyes searching. His tail furled instinctively around his waist.

      Someone was headed this way. Someone strong. Someone fast.

      Raditz crossed his arms, hackles raised. How had his scouter not picked up this reading sooner?   Vegeta had warned him to be on the lookout for anomalies. Perhaps he’d been a bit too casual upon arrival. Whoever this was, they must somehow be able to mask their power, which disturbed the large warrior more than he cared to admit. A sneaky foe was a dangerous one. His eyes scanned the horizon, keeping a fierce watch in the starry sky for any sign of movement.

_Shit. It’s gotta be him._

 

\-------   

 

 

      Son Goku felt like his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest as he flew headfirst towards danger. He crested over a dense line of trees, the river that he had been fishing in only hours earlier coming into view. A lone figure stood on the banks, posture rigid, proud.

      He was absolutely _massive_.

      Goku landed several yards away, taking in the imposing figure before him, all muscle, strangely armored, practically sinking into a wild mane of black hair. The energy and aggression roiling off of the opposing man surprised the young warrior. He seemed reminiscent of something more like a beast than a human, all hair and muscle and raw power. To make matters worse, he looked to be splattered with dark, crimson stains. Blood.

      The opposing, hulking warrior raised a single brow in surprise, a flurry of conflicting emotions crossing his face, almost too quickly to discern in the sparse lighting before he smirked, all sharp teeth and hard edges. Goku squared off, a small twitch of anxiety running along his jawline. The smell of burnt flesh and iron assaulted his senses.

      “< _Well, well, Kakarot. Here to roll out the red carpet for your big bro, eh? I gotta say, you look like absolute shit, just like Dad_.>” The stranger said, his words guttural and foreign, but almost playful in cadence. Goku tilted his head in confusion as the strange man uncrossed his arms, placing a hand on his hip in a casual stance. Despite the sudden relaxing of his posture, the giant warrior’s massive ki still churned off of him in oppressive waves. Goku felt his dinner threatening to resurface, the sheer, raw, eletric energy overwhelming his senses, filling his nose with an acerbic sensation.

      “Wha? What are you saying?” Goku blinked rapidly, puzzled by the strange language, keeping himself locked in a defensive stance. He felt off-kilter. The larger man let out a small huff, clicking his tongue in an annoyed manner.

      “< _Fuck, you don’t speak our mother tongue? Did your pod’s lesson modules malfunction_?> Hmm, it seems this planet has developed several branches of language similar to that of Galactic Standard, can you catch my meaning now?” the man asked, his cadence strange, but his words becoming more and more clear. He tapped his foot impatiently as he fiddled with his strange eyepiece.

      “That’s uh, yeah, I get what you’re saying now. Who are you, anyways?” Goku questioned, thoroughly baffled by the strange juxtaposition between the man’s threatening aura and lackadaisical attitude. And what the hell was that language he’d just been speaking? Goku knew he wasn’t the smartest guy around, but he hadn’t heard anything remotely close to that language in years.

_Wait._

_In years? I’ve heard this somewhere before?_

      Goku shook his head, clearing out the cobwebs. A small, wriggling pressure wormed its way into the back of his mind. Something akin to nostalgia, but more diluted, watered down like the light beer that Master Roshi liked to drink. It was gone before he could get a real grip on it, slipping through his fingers like sand.

      But Kami, there was something so familiar about this man.

      His eyes flicked to the spatters of blood on the man’s armor, the faint streaks that remained on his face, like he had hastily scrubbed away evidence of violence right before Goku had arrived. His gaze settled on the charred deer carcasses off to the side, several of which had been picked clean. The stranger noticed, walking casually towards the remains, tearing a leg off of the nearest one and biting viciously into it, ripping the flesh and sinew off while staring Goku down.

      “Hungry, little brother? I’m not quite finished.” The strange man said between mouthfuls, gesturing almost comically with the haunch gripped in his fist.

      “Uh. No, thanks I guess? I’ve eaten already. You never answered my question.” Goku’s ears burned. Why had this man called him little brother? Why was this powerful stranger acting so casual? The young warrior shivered, cautiously relaxing his posture. Their difference in power must have been so apparent that this man didn’t view him as anything remotely like a threat. The thought of fighting him excited Goku to no end.

      “You honestly don’t remember me, huh? I guess I can’t be surprised. You’d only seen me a handful of times when you were in the tanks. Dad didn’t think it was important to let me know that he’d blasted you off planet, so I honestly thought you were dead along with everyone else. Sorry for stranding you on this backwater planet for so long, we only just caught your signal.” The large warrior shrugged, explaining himself between bites of his meal. Despite using a language Goku could understand, very little of what this man was saying made any actual sense to him. Seeing Goku’s confusion, the large warrior let out an irritated sigh.

      “I’m Raditz, your dashing, powerful older brother.” The larger man gestured vaguely, whipping the leg bone in his hand around as he did. “Did you not access your pod’s history files? They should have been programed into the core files alongside your mission specs.” Raditz wiped his mouth with the back of hand, tossing the now bare bone in his hand to the ground with a thunk.

      “My brother? Pod? I…” Goku raised his hands in front of him, palms up in a placating manner. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

_(“Do we really have to do this? He’s so small…"_

_“We’ll come for you. If we survive this… I swear it.”_

_“Live, Kakarot. Please live!”)_

      Goku started sweating, panic beginning to hit him in waves. He swallowed deeply.

      “Don’t be ridiculous. Come on Kakarot. You can’t be that naïve, can you? Have you even begun to purge this planet? What kind of Saiyan are you?” Raditz sniffed disparagingly, his nose wrinkled at his brother’s confusion.  “I see several power levels kicking around this dirtball that should have been a breeze for you, considering your current level. Very impressive, by the way. I didn’t think you’d grow all that much, considering how runty you were as a cub.” Raditz advanced slowly towards his brother, his expression puzzled, his posture tense. There was something terribly off about Kakarot. Whatever game he was playing, it stopped being funny a while ago.

      “I need some answers, Kakarot. Fill me in on what’s been happening, then we can leave this shithole planet and get back to base.” The large saiyan stopped just out of reach, looming over the smaller man, his arms crossed.

      “I think you got the wrong guy. My name is Son Goku. I don’t know who this Kakarot guy is, and I definitely don’t know who the heck you are. I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never seen you before!” Goku took a step back, his eyes catching on the fuzzy belt around Raditz’s waist… a belt that suddenly twitched and unfurled, much to his surprise. “W-wait a minute, you have a tail?” Goku’s eyes widened in shock. He felt a sudden, phantom pang at the base of his spine. Besides himself, the only other person he’d ever seen with a tail was his own son. And now, this stranger, claiming to be his brother…

 

( _“Listen to me, Goku, you must never go outside during the full moon. There’s a monster that rampages out there, a beast hunting for blood, craving destruction. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt, my dear boy.”_

_“I won’t, Grandpa. I promise.” )_

 

      There was no way. It couldn’t possibly be true.

      “Kakarot…” Raditz intoned his brother’s name slowly, dangerously, his eyes flicking down to his brother’s waist, wondering why he’d hidden his own tail. “That’s your name. What the hell happened to you? Don’t tell me you’ve actually forgotten your saiyan heritage?”

      Before Goku could react, Raditz lunged forward, his large hands clamping down on both sides of the smaller man's head with radical intensity, fingers long enough to nearly reach the very back of his skull. The large warrior forced Goku to look directly at him, his wild, dark eyes boring into him as if he could read the smaller man’s mind.

      “What was the purpose of your mission here?” Raditz growled, tightening his grip on his brother’s head. His fingers clenched into the spiky, black hair, styled so much like their father’s. Practically a doppelganger of the man himself.   Raditz’s eyes widened as his fingers brushed over a jagged scar that ran along the back of Kakarot’s skull, hidden under that wild mane of hair.

      “Let go of me! That really hurts!” Goku cried out, gripping at Raditz’s wrists, trying to wrench himself free of the larger man’s hold. Goku kicked out his legs, finding leverage against the other man’s thighs, and sprung himself backwards, breaking the grip and falling back. He put out his hands, quickly correcting himself with a small back handspring and jumping up immediately into a closed, defensive stance.   The smell of blood filled his nostrils, his face and neck smeared with the filth left behind from Raditz’s hands.

      Raditz blinked rapidly, his mind slowly churning through various scenarios. Clearly, his brother wasn’t feigning ignorance. There must have been some kind of accident; the scar he felt was old, but significantly pronounced.

      “What’s that scar on your head from?” He could venture a guess, but he wanted confirmation. Not that it would make a difference.

      “I fell down a ravine and split open my skull when I was a kid. If it wasn’t for my Grandpa, I would have died. But what do you care?” Goku challenged. He was rapidly losing patience with this Raditz guy. He was too weird, grabbing him like that and then barraging him with nonsense questions? It was too much.

      “Shit. Some kind of brain damage, then. Bad news, Kakarot, that’s real bad news.” Raditz ran his hands over his face, completely exasperated. Vegeta was going to be absolutely furious at the news. Sure, he’d found Kakarot, but the kid was completely clueless. He dragged his hands down to tent over his nose and mouth, staring over the tips of his fingers at his younger brother. He could just kill him and tell Vegeta that he’d been dead on arrival. Chalk the hailing signal up to a fluke, which seemed at least partially true given Kakarot’s general cluelessness.  

      “I’m trying to understand what you’re talking about, but you still haven’t really told me anything. I need you to fill me in, because you just seem like a crazy person to me.” Goku growled out, wanting to give this guy the benefit of the doubt, even if he did just try to crush his skull.

      “What, you want a history lesson or something?” Raditz snickered, letting his hands fall to his sides. He tilted his head back, his laughter building to an almost hysterical point. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but having to completely re-educate his long lost brother was not anywhere on his short-list of guesses. “Where do I even start? You, Kakarot, are a Saiyan! A member of a proud, elite race of warriors, the strongest the universe has to offer. You are not an Earthling.”

      “A warrior race? I guess that would make sense, I’ve always loved fighting.” Goku admitted, hesitant.

      “Moreso than anything else, I’m sure. It’s in your blood. You are the youngest son of two powerful and well-respected saiyan warriors, as well as my little brother. Only the latter of those two facts matter anymore, seeing as how our race was destroyed when our home planet of Vegetasei was struck by a giant meteor. Only those deployed on missions during the accident survived, at least six that we're aware of.  Not exactly a high number to boast. Finding you expands our ranks greatly." Pride, anger, disappointment. A myriad of emotions flew filtered through Raditz as he explained the state of affairs to his brother.  "We’re the last of our kind. Let that one sink in, I’ll give you a minute.”  He wasn’t sure the gravity of the situation was actually resonating, but it was a good sign that Kakarot was actually trying to listen. If he could convince him to come along without a fight, it would make things so much easier…  

      “Wait, so there’s only a couple people like you left? Like us…” Goku’s face fell. The idea of more powerful warriors out there like this Raditz guy excited him to no end, but if there were only a few left, well, that didn’t give him many opportunities for new opponents.

      An alert flashed across Raditz’s scouter. Another powerful level registered a few miles out, moving cautiously closer. And the smaller grouping of power levels from earlier also seemed to be heading this way, at a much faster rate than the first. This planet must have some kind of scouting tech that he was unaware of. Not that any of these power levels were of any concern, he was just hoping to have more time alone with Kakarot to puzzle things out before taking out the rest of the population.

      Raditz swore, spitting on the ground as he glared at his brother.

      “Alright, Kakarot, it’s time to wrap things up. Listen carefully, because we’re going to have some problems if you don’t. Bring me to your ship, we need to see if it’s salvageble. Depending on how long that takes, I’ll help you clear out this planet like you should have done in the first place. Then we’re gonna rendezvous with the boys, and we’ll teach you everything you missed over the years you spent on this pathetic planet.” Raditz advanced once more, cracking his neck. His brother didn’t flinch. “Prince Vegeta wants me to bring you back as soon as possible. Frankly, I couldn’t give two shits about you, but you’re clearly damaged, so now it’s my responsibility to get you up to speed. We’re in the middle of a crisis, vacation time is over.”

      “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t care who you are or what you want, you can’t just come here and start telling me what to do!” Goku was completely fed up. Even if it was true, even if he was a saiyan or whatever they were called, even if Raditz was his brother, this was the only life he’d ever known. This was where he was needed.

       This was home.

_But is this actually where I belong?_

 

( _“Goku! No, don’t tell me you looked at the full moon? Please, you didn’t, did you?”)_

_“_ If you’re looking for a fight, let’s do it already.” Goku spat, undue rage bubbling up within him.

      “Me, looking for a fight? Hah, you’re a pretty funny guy! Are you sure you wanna take me on, Kakarot? You don’t have a scouter on, so I’ll clue you in. I’m a hell of a lot stronger than you.” Raditz paused, using his pinky finger to pick something out of his teeth. “But maybe if I punch you enough times, it’ll jog your memory.”

      “I know you’re strong, I can sense it. But where’s the fun in fighting if there ain’t a challenge?” Goku smirked, trying his best to sound more confident than he felt. Raditz’s words seemed like complete nonsense, but there was something undeniably familiar about him. Fear and doubt sprouted small, clawing roots in the back of Goku’s mind. But he wouldn’t run, not when there was a crazy man in front of him threatening to destroy mankind.

      “You can sense my power level on your own, huh? You’ll have to teach me that trick sometime.” In the blink of an eye, Raditz was in front of Goku, leering and looming inches from his face. A moment too late, Goku reached up to block, but Raditz was too quick. The larger warrior’s attack connected, a fierce punch straight into the smaller warrior’s gut.   Goku went flying back with immense force, crashing into the trunk of a great tree, which splintered completely on impact, halting his movements. He tried to stand, but was grabbed before he had a chance, his huge opponent’s speed overwhelming him. Raditz pulled Goku up by the front of his gi, cracking his fist straight across his jaw with sickening force. Goku’s head snapped back from the impact, electric blue spots peppering his vision, ears ringing in protest.

      “What’s wrong, Kakarot? I’m just playing around and you already look like you’re gonna pass out!” Raditz taunted, lifting Goku clear off of the ground so his brother was eye-level. The large warrior laughed cynically at the way his brother’s eyes glazed over in shock.

      The smaller warrior shook his head, trying to dispel the sparks in his vision, and gripped Raditz’s wrist. Swinging his body for better leverage, Goku bent his legs up to wrap around Radtiz’s head and neck, quickly twisting his upper body out of the larger warrior’s grip. He managed to quickly gain purchase with his hands on the ground, utilizing the momentum of his body to flip Raditz with his legs and throw him to the ground.

      Goku sprang up, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing blood across his jaw. His head was spinning, but he’d be damned if he gave up after a punch or two.  

      “Not bad, little brother! There’s some fight in you! Maybe there’s hope for you yet.” Raditz mocked, brushing the dirt off of himself as he stood.

      “I’m just getting started.” Goku smirked, spitting out the blood in his mouth and falling into a defensive posture. His blood was boiling, his whole body vibrating with excitement. This was it, this was exactly what had been missing. He tried to remember the last time he felt this amped up, but his mind was so jumbled from the shock of the encounter, that all he could think of was the thrill. He could worry about the details later, right now, he just wanted to throw all of his being, his very existence, into fighting the man before him.

      He felt _alive_.

      The two warriors locked eyes and sprang into action, exchanging powerful blows. Goku had his hands full, realizing that he wasn’t powerful enough to fully block Raditz’s attacks. Instead, he focused on taking the impact of the blows in ways that affected him as little as possible, and keyed in on quick, jabbing counters, the kind of tactic used to outlast the stamina of larger opponents. He quickly realized, however, that Raditz was far outside of the scope of the opponents he usually fought. His technique was… non-existent. All power, no finesse. The huge warrior had strength like Goku had never seen, but it was clear that he had no formal martial arts training. Just like a wild animal. Goku upper lip raised in a devious, taunting sneer, realizing he could use that to his advantage.

      The earth warrior started making small, deliberate retreats, dodging blows and jumping around the larger warrior as much as he possibly could. He flowed with the directions of Raditz’s blows, taking glancing hits, twisting and rolling just out of reach. The larger warrior let out a deep growl of frustration, realizing that his hits were not landing the way he intended.

      It was incredible, the rush of adrenaline, the relentless onslaught of blows, the idea of keeping pace with someone so damn strong. Goku felt like he was going crazy from how euphoric he felt. He let out a small laugh, grinning like a maniac.

       _This is so damn fun!_

      “What’s wrong, Raditz? You gettin’ tired?” Goku ribbed at the older man, punctuating the taunt with a solid right hook to the face. The hit connected with a resounding, satisfying crack. Raditz’s head jogged back from the impact, blood spraying from what was, most assuredly, a broken nose. The larger warrior let out a grunt of pain and stumbled back, his hand flying up to his nose to stem the blood flow.

      “Cute, really fucking cute, little brother.” Raditz’s voice sounded deep and distorted, like he was trying to talk with a mouth full of marbles. Inhaling a deep breath, the saiyan anchored his nose between both of his thumbs, and with a finite snap, it popped back into place. He shook his head like a dog shaking off water, letting out a string of rather creative curses in his native language.

      “You wanna play games, Kakarot? I’ll bite.” Radtiz grinned, the blood on his face making him look positively feral. He sprung back several yards, lifting his palm up and firing a barraged of ki blasts in rapid succession directly at Goku. Goku dodged around them with ease, but it divided his attention just enough for Raditz to catch him off guard. The larger warrior appeared behind Goku, his hands entwined above his head before bringing both of them down with blinding force to slam into base of Goku’s neck. The smaller warrior crumpled to the ground.

      “Kakarot, you are a disgrace to our race, a fucking failure. How you’ve managed to actually survive thus far is an absolute mystery.” Raditz growled, slamming his foot down on Goku’s lower back as the smaller warrior tried to get up.

      “Get off of me!” Goku cried out, voice strained as Raditz stomped him into the dirt. Streaks of white hot pain jolted through him, making it nearly impossible to focus.  

      “What have you been doing this whole time, you weakling? Learning fancy little dance moves and passing it off as fighting technique? Give me a fucking break.” Raditz dropped down, slamming one knee on top of Goku’s back. He reached out, his massive hand encompassing a chunk of Goku’s hair, pulling his head up and back at a painful angle. The young man let out a strangled cry as his neck strained.

      “You could use a little formal training, yourself! Using cheap tricks and swatting your hands around like a big dumb bear isn’t going to win you any fights around here!” Goku hissed out through gritted teeth, his fingers scrabbling in the dirt. He had to think, had to find a way to get out from under Raditz.

      “You’re pathetic, I’ve already won this fight. Now why don’t you take a nice little nap while I wipe everyone out. If you listen and behave, I might even save a few of the weakest ones for you to finish off, since that seems to be all that you can handle.” Raditz couldn’t mask the disgust in his voice. To think his own brother was so weak… it enraged him. Purging the planet might be just the balm that he needed after such an infuriating encounter.

      Goku bucked his body, trying to fling Raditz off of him, but it was to no avail. With cold, measured indifference, Raditz clocked Goku on the back of the head, the smaller warrior’s skull ricocheting against the ground with severity of the blow. When Goku let out a small moan of pain, Raditz laughed.

      “Still conscious? I’m amazed!” His brother’s tenacity was surprising. Usually, Raditz’s opponents would be dead by now.

      Goku mumbled something, but it was indiscernible.

      “What was that, little brother? I can’t hear you with all of that dirt in your mouth.”

      “My friends… on their way.”

      “You’re friends? Don’t tell me you’ve made friends with the earthlings.” He’d suspected, but he didn’t want to believe it. His brother was damaged, completely broken. Making friends with the very people he was deployed to destroy… unless Bardock had had a different intention all along in secretly sending him off.  

      “Don’t fight them.” Goku implored.

      “Fight them? No, Kakarot, there won’t be any fighting. There’s going to be a slaughter.” Raditz stated, disgusted at his brother’s weakness.

      “I’ll fight you, this is my fight! Don’t touch them, I just need to rest and then I’ll beat you.  I'll become stronger!  Just gotta sleep. Back home. I wanna talk to my family, take a bath...”  He was making little sense, fading in and out of consciousness. Beaten, battered, something inside was definitely broken. His friends were getting closer, he could feel it, but he just wanted them to turn away. He coughed, splattering dark, acrid spittle into the dirt

      “You... a family? Are you joking?” Blind fury overtook Raditz. He gripped Goku’s head, slamming him against the ground. Goku let out a cry of pain as Raditz mercilessly applied pressure, grinding the younger man’s face into the dirt and grime.   “While you’ve been quite literally fucking around here on Earth, our whole race was eradicated! I’ve been killing myself to keep that tyrant amused, and you’ve been running around here without a care, playing nice with the earthlings, breeding with them?  These weaklings?  Give me a break!” The large saiyan stood, pulling his brother up with him, yanking him up by his hair. Goku swatted uselessly at Raditz, the pain from being hauled up so suddenly eliciting a sharp oath of pain.

      “What else was I supposed to do? I didn’t even know who you were until today. Why should I care?” Pain overload caused Goku to come back to his senses, oddly enough. Some kind of fight or flight response, a deep, survival instinct heightened his focus. Raditz had released him, and Goku stood, knees bent, swaying dangerously.

      “Because they were your people! Because I’m your fucking brother, whether you like it or not! And because the ones of us that are left are hanging by a thread, we grow closer and closer to complete extinction every day.” Raditz raged, wanting nothing more than to kill his brother. Warm, angry ki started to build in his palms.

      “You’re a hypocrite. How do you expect me to give a damn about your history when you don’t care about mine?” Goku leveled, his eyes drifting to the energy building in his opponent’s hands.

      For once, Raditz was silent. The question caught him off guard. He dispelled the ki in his palms, weighing the question in his mind. It’s true, he hadn’t bothered to consider Kakarot’s situation, because, frankly, he never considered that the saiyan could have built a life outside of the one he, himself led. Raditz pondered… if he had been in Kakarot’s situation, would he have behaved the same way? Made a peaceful life on Earth, started a family, even?

      Was he… laughing?

      Raditz’s jaw nearly dropped in horrified fascination as he watched his brother, the smaller man’s entire frame shaking, his head thrown back as hysterical laughter escaped him. The smaller man dropped to one knee, clutching at his stomach, a grimace of pain overwhelming him. All the while, he continued to laugh.

      "What's so funny, Kakarot?" Raditz clenched his fists, his insides roiling,

      "You are!"  Goku gasped out, trying to calm himself, tears of laughter falling down his face in muddy, bloody tracks. "You don't know how to say it, but you do give a damn, don't you?  You need my help, right?  Why not start over and just ask me, instead of threatening everything I care about?"

      "Hey, that's not it at all!  That's not how things work-"

      "And why not?  Why can't it be?  Just ask, see what happens."  The laughter died out.  Goku started at Raditz, at his brother, through half-shut eyes, struggling to stay conscious.

      For a time, the only sound between them was their breathing.  Goku's labored and strained, Raditz's heaving and furious.

      "I...  Fine."  The saiyan warrior took a deep breath, steadying himself.  Kakarot was crazy.  He was completely unpredictable, weak, unruly.  His ideals were so off track from everything Raditz tried to embrace.  This man was defeated, entirely beaten.  It would be so easy just to finish him here, to knock him out and drag him away.  But dammit, there was something so hopeful about him, this intrinsic desire to strive for more, to push the boundaries of what things should and shouldn't be.  And Raditz couldn't ignore that.  He couldn't ignore this man, who was giving him a second chance that he didn't know he needed.

     "Kakarot.  We can't... I can't do this alone.  Will you come with me?"  The scouter Raditz wore started beeping furiously.

     "I will.  I'll come with you."     

     Goku could hear his name being called, echoed, warm and familiar.  A suffocating darkness, a starless night sky overcame him.  

      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAH WELL, this chapter ended up being longer than the first two combined! And that was AFTER reworking a few scenes from this chapter into later chapters just so things didn't get too diluted.
> 
> Probably to my detriment, I enjoy establishing character dynamics and interactions, and I feel like the meeting between Goku and Raditz is quite formative for them. Fighting is so important to Saiyan culture, and I often wonder how different things would have been for these two if they had an opportunity to have a good, solid fight without any outside interference. 
> 
> Sometimes a scene just takes on a life of its own. More to come soon! We're gonna check up on Vegeta next chapter wooo!!!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	4. Some Kind of Space Monkey (just like you!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> like a zoo, but for people.

       Raditz found himself in a rather precarious predicament. As his little brother passed out, two warriors landed just a few yards off, followed shortly by a small, flying vehicle carrying several more people, and, oddly, what looked like a few animals. Earth’s “mightiest”, and Kakarot’s friends, made apparent by the way they called out his earth given name with great concern as they ran forward.

       Not one for social graces to begin with, the saiyan warrior was at a complete loss of how to handle the situation. There was no casual way to play off the state that he and his unconscious brother were in, made even more awkward by the fact that they were both covered in blood and grime from head to toe. Kakarot had agreed to come with him before he’d conked out, so Raditz figured the least he could do was try to play nice with these earthlings out of respect to the promise.

       “Now, I know this looks bad…” He ventured carefully, standing stock still next to his brother’s fallen form. His tail unfurled from his waist, a subconscious reflex of non-aggression.  

       “What the hell did you do to Goku!?” A small, bald human with peculiar dots on his head shouted out, white knuckled and shaking. He was wearing garments similar to Kakarot’s, as was one of the other human behind him, which gave Raditz pause. Some small, desperate part of him had been hoping that Kakarot had been joking about assimilating with the creatures of this planet, but there was no more reason for that kind of stubborn denial. They clearly cared for Kakarot,

       “We fought. He lost.” Raditz remarked simply, shrugging. He was no stranger to settling disputes through force, that was practically his day to day life. It was as normal and routine for him as eating or taking a shit.   With how willing Kakarot had been to fight, surely his group of friends would understand.

       “You bastard! He’s wounded!” Shouted another, this one taller and scarred. He looked as though he wanted to rush forward, but Raditz caught his eye, halting him in his tracks.

       “Yes, that’s usually what fighting entails.” Raditz snorted, the action making him scowl, having forgotten how tender his recently broken (and subsequently reset) nose was. “What do you want me to say? The end result is that Kakarot lost, and he’s far more powerful than any of you lot. So don’t even try.” He was still amped up from the fight, but he mentally slapped himself from sounding so aggressive out of the gate. For good measure, he tried to relax his posture as much as possible. He knew he could take all of these weaklings out with ease, but he needed Kakarot to trust him.

       “Who’s Kakarot? And who the hell are you, for that matter?” Another bald warrior bearing a peculiar third eye stepped forward. He was already gathering energy into his palms, ready to strike.

       “You Earthlings are too noisy. I’m tired of explaining.” Raditz sighed, sitting down in one fluid motion next to his brother, his legs crossed. He rested his elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his hand with a look of mild indifference. “Kakarot. The one you call Goku? He and I already came to terms. If you want answers, wait for him to wake up. I’ve promised him that I’d spare your lives, but that doesn’t mean I need to tell you the whys and hows.” He flagged a dismissive hand at the warriors, grinning as a wave of shock and confusion rippled through their ranks.

       The group was at a loss of what to do, until an exasperated young woman stepped forward, all pomp and confidence. Vibrant blue hair stood out amongst the murk and gloom of the starry night.

       “Well, don’t just stand there, you idiots! Tien, don’t you have any Senzu beans?” She barked out, hands on her hips. The three-eyed warrior, Tien, balked at her and nodded, reaching into a small pouch. The young woman snatched whatever he’d withdrawn and marched towards where Goku lay.

       Raditz raised an eyebrow as the woman approached, her chest puffed out, her footing certain. She had been the one flying the small aircraft, and was very clearly not a fighter. Of the entire bunch, his scouter showed her to have the weakest power level, not even cresting over the double digits. Even the old man in the back of the group had a higher level. And yet, she seemed to have command of all of the warriors present.

       Earth certainly was strange.

       Seeming to come to their senses as a collective unit, the warriors surged forward behind the young woman, surround her and the two combatants in a loose circle, hostilities flared. Raditz did not much care for suddenly being surrounded, but said nothing. The tip of his tail twitched.

       The young woman knelt down in the dirt near Goku’s head, pointedly avoiding Raditz’s gaze. Up close, he could see that she was shaking. She let out a small noise of disquiet when she saw the state of her friend, one hand covering her mouth. She felt his neck, checking for a pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was faint, but steady.

       Satisfied with her cursory inspection, the young woman popped something small into Goku’s mouth, pressing gently on his chin to encourage him. After a moment, the young warrior bit down, chewing slowly. His eyes suddenly snapped open, and he rocketed up like someone had electrocuted him. Unfortunately for him, the young woman was still positioned over him, and Goku cracked his head straight into hers, causing both of them to fall back with a cry.

       “OW, GOKU! What the hell!” The woman shrieked as she fell back, clutching her face.

       “Bulma? Oh man, what the heck is your head made out of? That hurt!” Goku exclaimed, mashing his palms into his forehead as he sprawled on his back, groaning comically.

       “I’m not the one with a hard head, you are, you jerk! I think I have a concussion!” Bulma cried out, her eyes watering from the pain. Behind her, the man with the facial scars snickered. Bulma’s head whipped around at the sound.

       “Yamcha! How about instead of laughing you offer to help a lady up? Or are you too busy peeing your pants like a little baby over this guy to get any closer?“ she motioned flippantly towards Raditz, staring Yamcha down with enough heat to melt iron. Yamcha hesitated; the smirk wiped from his face. After a moment’s deliberation, he finally reached out a hand to help. Bulma promptly swatted him away.

       “H-hey! What the hell?” Yamcha backed away as Bulma stood. She brushed herself off without giving him a second glance.

       “Oh don’t worry, I can handle it myself!” She mocked, crossing her arms defiantly.

       After a moment, Goku hopped up to his feet as his friends bickered, spry and starry eyed.  Glancing at Bulma, he decided to take a page out of her book. He offered Raditz a hand to help him up, but the large saiyan just stared at him like he had sprouted ten heads.

       “What, don’t you want a hand?” Goku teased, a big, goofy grin plastered on his face.

       “How? You were just unconscious? I broke a few of your ribs, I’m sure of it. How can you stand there like our fight never happened?” Raditz stood of his own accord, but grabbed the proffered arm once he was up, poking and prodding and turning the limb, inspecting it with great fervor. There were no trace of cuts, no bruised knuckles, no sign from the fight they just had other than remnants of dirt and old blood. Entirely perplexed, he searched Goku’s smiling face for answers.   His brother’s expression grew more and more cheeky by the moment.   Frustrated and confused, Raditz jabbed at Goku’s ribs, but that only elicited an ‘oof’ and a laugh from the younger man.

       “Don’t worry about it! I’m fine now. I guess you could call it an Earthling trick!” Goku exclaimed with a wink. The young warrior jumped up and down a few times, shaking out his whole body, feeling limber and energized. Oddly enough, he felt even stronger than before. He watched as Raditz seemed to visibly deflate, the bravado of the earlier fight seeming to leech out of him at the sight of Goku’s energy.

       “This is impossible. I beat you within an inch of your life.” Raditz felt his own aches and exhaustion settle deep into his bones. Despite their marked difference in strength, the young saiyan still gave him quite a workout. Raditz honestly couldn’t recall the last time an opponent got close enough to him to actually cause lasting damage, and Kakarot had broken his nose with relative ease. Seeing the weaker man jumping around like a child only served to irritate him.

       “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about Earth. After all, you only landed here today! If you want, I can tell you all kinds of neat things! My friends can, too, especially Bulma. She knows a heck of a lot more than I do.” His hands came to rest behind his head, and he turned to smile at his friends. He was surprised to see everyone there, given how strong Raditz’s ki was, and he noticed the energy of a certain sheltered rival of his skirting the perimeter where they gathered. He almost wished that Piccolo would come out and try his hand at his newfound brother, just to see if he would fair any better against the alien.

       Goku furrowed his brow. It was funny to think of Raditz being both his brother and an alien. That also meant that he was an alien, he supposed. He ran his hands through his hair, just to make sure he didn’t sprout any weird antennae or anything like that while he was passed out. Just in case.

       “Er. Hey Goku? Care to explain what’s going on?”

       Goku snapped out of his brief revere at the sound of his friend’s incredulous tone.

       “Now don’t freak out, Krillin, but this big guy right here? He’s from space.” Goku slapped Raditz on the bicep with the back of his hand, causing the large saiyan warrior to grimace.

       “How hard did you hit your head?” Krillin balked, convinced he’d misheard his friend. He exchanged a skeptical look with Bulma, who shrugged and rolled her eyes. She wasn’t fazed by much anymore, given Goku’s antics over the years.

       “Oh, I hit him real, real hard. He’s probably concussed and delirious. You shouldn’t trust what he has to say.” Raditz sneered, unable to resist teasing the earthlings. A vicious grin came over his features as he leaned menacingly towards Krillin. The small warrior flinched.

       It was too easy.

       “I’m serious, guys!” Goku interjected, his tone imploring. “At least, he’s pretty serious about this stuff, so I believe him. A lot’s happened; I’m still trying to figure it out, myself. This guy’s called Raditz! Basically, he’s my brother, so I guess that means I’m also from space? Earlier he was speaking a really weird language, and he calls me by a weird name, Cakarooto or something like that. A space name! He comes from a planet where people fight all the time, but that planet’s actually gone now and we are the last of our kind, along with some prince named Vegetable and one or two others. And he came to find me because he needs my help. In space. I think.” Goku scratched the back of his head. His thoughts were all jumbled and skewed from everything that happened. He was too excited by all of the new information. On top of that, there was still a small part of him that was positively vibrating with adrenaline, rearing and ready to fight once more.

       Raditz’s eyes grew wide, his expression blanking at Goku’s butchered, juvinile explanation.

_Oh no._

       His brother was an _idiot_.

       That seemed to be the general consensus amongst his friends, as well, judging from the way they reacted, eyes askance and judgmental. Tien coughed, Yamcha tugged on the collar of his own shirt as it to relieve pressure from his neck. Bulma surpressed a giggle. Krillin looked damn near ready to fall over.

       “If I recall correctly, your Grandpa did tell me a very strange story about how he found you when you were a baby.” An old man wearing sunglasses stepped forward, his knuckles white from a tense grip on the large walking stick he held.

       “Master Roshi, what do you mean grandpa found me?! You never told me that!” Goku accused, completely taken aback. He narrowed his eyes at his old master.

       “Interrupting your elders is very rude, Goku!” He smacked Goku on the forehead with his staff, commanding his attention. “Just listen a minute, I’m trying to help your case. Anyways, your Grandpa Gohan told me that he found you in a strange craft that had fallen from the sky. I always thought he was just a little loony, or at least pulling my leg. Kind of like how you tell little kids that babies come from the stork. He said you were a rude and raucous child, until you fell and hit your head, that is. See, I thought he was just making excuses, not wanting to tell me the whirlwind, lewd love story behind your birth!   But to think you’re actually from space? Maybe your Grandpa wasn’t so crazy…” Master Roshi chuckled, remembering his old student with great fondness.

       The gravity and absurdity of the situation seemed to hit everyone all at once. The floodgates opened, and the earth warriors exploded with questions, surging forward and talking over one another in a frenzy to get answers from Goku.

       “Hold on, Goku, you are not making any sense.”

       “If he needs your help, why did he beat the shit out of you?”

       “Prince Vegetable?”

       “He’s your WHAT?

       “I guess they kind of look alike?”

       “This is ridiculous, there’s no way he’s from space.”

       “He really must have a concussion!”

       “Maybe that explains that weird comet we saw earlier? Was that his ship?

       “Look, he’s got a tail, just like Goku did as a kid!”

       “But from SPACE?”

       As the group of them chittered and speculated, Raditz started laughing. It was an involuntary, nervous reaction at its finest, building too quickly to quell it. It was a quite, shaking thing at first, bubbling up from his core, rumbling through his frame. Finally, he let loose, practically doubling over, floored by how ludicrous this whole situation was. One by one, everyone quieted down, staring at Raditz while he had his little fit. Tears of laughter spilled from his eyes. He wiped them away, his hands coming away damp and muddy. This was not, by any stretch, how he imagined things were going to go on this mission.  

       “Kakarot. That was, by far, the absolute worst explanation I’ve ever heard in my life. Are you really so simple?” All of the air in Raditz’s lung left in a powerful whoosh as he tried to calm himself down, his shoulders still shaking a bit. Damn, he hadn’t laughed like that in the longest time. In years, really. He tried not to think too hard about it.

       “Hey! It’s a lot to remember, and you only just told me about it! If you don’t like my explanation, why don’t you tell them yourself?” Goku was clearly offended, arms crossed, cheeks puffed out in defiance.

       “Fine, fine. I will. But I’m starving after all of that fighting. I need some food. And you!” Raditz reeled around, swatting Krillin sharply on the hand, making the small warrior cry out in pain. “Don’t _ever_ touch my tail.” The small warrior cringed, instantly regretting his impulsive decision to touch the furry appendage. Raditz brushed by the group of earthlings, slapping Krillin across the face with his tail for good measure as he went. The small warrior went reeling back, toppling over onto his bottom.

       “H-hey! I was just seeing if it was like Goku’s was when he was a kid!” Krillin prated from the ground, completely red faced from embarrassment.

       “Of course it’s the same as his.” Raditz paused, looking thoughtfully down at Krillin. “And what do you mean ‘like when he was a kid’? Our tails are the same whether we are juveniles or adults. There's no difference.”

       “My tail got cut off a long time ago!” Goku piped up.

       Raditz groaned.

       “Oh of course it did. You fool, your tail is precious! Well, no matter. It should grow back in no time, especially if we get you into one of the Empire’s healing tanks to speed up the process. The artificial DNA structures they have in that fluid is crazy good at repairing limbs and appendages. You’ll be back to rampaging and rioting in no time.” Raditz remarked, annoyed but not surprised. His brother certainly was reckless, but a tail would regrow given the right circumstances.

       “Rampaging?” Goku wondered, tilting his head quizzically to the side.  Something he couldn't quite place was making him uneasy.

       “Perhaps we can discuss that little detail at another time.” Master Roshi appeared next to Raditz, speaking low. A menacing aura roiled off of the old man, making Raditz raise a questioning, challenging brow. This man had more power than he let on, and his scouter ran the numbers to prove it. Clearly the man had witnessed Kakarot’s Oozaru form and was not keen on a repeat encounter. More concerning was the implication that Kakarot was unaware of his own abilities.

       “This conversation isn’t over. He’ll have to find out eventually, old man.” Raditz growled out, pushing past him. It was remarkable, one moment the earthlings were cowering in fear and anger, the next they were acting so bold!

       “Master Roshi, what was that all about? Do you know what Raditz meant?” Goku questioned his former master. The exchange had been so strange! He felt like he was missing big chunks of the conversation, even though he was privy to every word.

       “It’s for another time, Goku. Don’t worry about it. Just… we really need to keep an eye on this brother of yours. I don’t know what kind of deal you made with him, but I don’t trust him. He reeks of death. We carry our actions with us our whole lives, and I can see the weight of the lives he’s ended bearing down on him.” There was no hint of jest, no levity in Master Roshi’s words. It sent a shiver down Goku’s spine. He hadn’t had time to consider the kind of person Raditz might be. The thrill of the fight had consumed him, and he was only thinking of the next opportunity he would have to fight his newfound opponent. He might have just signed on to travel with a killer without even thinking.

       Goku felt a twinge of fear.

       “I think he can change. We don’t know enough about his situation, but it sounds like things are pretty bad. He came here lookin’ for my help, so I’m gonna give it to him. If he turns out to be bad, well, I’ll just have to beat him! Simple as that, ya know?” Goku resolved, clapping Master Roshi jovially on the shoulder before jogging after his brother. The old man shook his head.

       Raditz had just reached the remains of the kill he had made earlier when Goku ran up behind him, laying a hand on his arm to stop him. The larger saiyan growled low and deep, bearing his teeth, blown away by the brazen man daring to keep him from his meal.

       “Woah, woah, you really don’t need to keep eating raw meat like that! Come back to my house, we have plenty of food there. Or you can bring this and Chi-Chi will cook it. You look uh… kind of crazy tearing into this carcass, and my friends are already pretty freaked out by you.” Goku reasoned, tugging on Raditz’s arm like a small child would, digging his heels into the dirt. The larger saiyan was immovable.

       “Their comfort levels are far from being my concern, Kakarot.” Raditz hesitated, looking back at the group of humans idling behind them. They just wouldn’t stop gawking. “But it has been quite some time since I’ve had a good meal...” he admitted, wrinkling his nose in disgust as the thought back on his terrible track list of recent meals.

       “You won’t regret it, I promise! And you can meet my son!”

       “Wait, you’ve reproduced? With an Earthling? How did you not _break_ them?” Raditz’s jaw dropped for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Earthlings must have been sturdier than the warrior initially thought, to be able to withstand, well…. Raditz didn’t particularly want to think about his brother’s mating habits, not when they’d only met a few hours ago. It was perplexing, Kakarot’s life so far was fascinating, but he started to wonder if he’d really be able to rip his little brother away from all of it. Earthlings clearly developed close bonds to one another, and that raised cause for concern.

       “Break her? I’d never hurt her, we spar for fun! Besides, Chi-Chi is very strong! Not as strong as me, but she’s holds her own.” Goku answered candidly, thinking Raditz was referring to his wife’s fighting ability.

       “I can’t believe you have a little half-breed running around, that’s insane. I’ve gotta see.” Raditz marveled, trying to envision what Kakarot’s child could be like. His would be the first known saiyan child born since their home world’s destruction. Despite his half-breed status, it was quite honestly encouraging news. It spoke of something new, something hopeful.

       He glanced back at the group of earthlings milling about behind them. They quickly looked away, a poor attempt to pretend to not have been watching the saiyans’ exchange the whole time.  

       “Fine, Kakarot. Lead the way. There’d better be good food, or your in for another beating.” Raditz relented, allowing his brother to drag him back towards the hodgepodge group of earthlings.

       It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you all so much for your amazing comments and feedback! It's been such a joy reading the comments and makes me so jazzed to work on this! You're the best! <3 
> 
> Okay okay, I know I said we'd see Vegeta in this chapter, but as I went to write it out, I realized for the sake of keeping things cohesive chronologically, we had to resolve a few things on Earth! But good news, the next chapter is -actually- going to be all Vegeta, and it's a long one! I just have to copy-edit it and expand out one little scene, but the next chapter will be up soon, most likely this weekend!
> 
> I wasn't super crazy about this chapter at first, but I feel like any chapter that follows a big fight is always a little more lowkey and feels weird playing out. I kept being like "where's the ACTION", but it's a nice little intermediate chapter to help build relations so yeah! I also found myself struggling with perspective shifts. Goku and Raditz are such radically different personalities, I hope I was able to keep the flow of it smooth, but I fear it might be a little jarring. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	5. That Sinking Feeling (like a stone in my stomach)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toxic air  
> Incriminating actions  
> Renewed resolve

       The air around them shuddered, thick and caustic, pulsating with something so palpable and raw that it shook the very heavens. Clouds rocketed by with immense speed, the buoyant nimbus’ tainted yellow from sulfur, dark and sinister, threatening to storm at any moment. Rain would have been welcomed, a break in the tension, in the fire raging between the two figures who squared off below. Vegeta couldn’t help but to smirk at the change in pressure. How fitting it was, this dramatic, atmospheric shift.

       “Too much of a show for my taste.” The Prince of Saiyans remarked to no one in particular as he raised his palm towards his opponent, his head tilting to the side. Blood poured out of a shallow wound on his forehead, his expression wild. His challenger, a hulking brute comprised of creaking, flint colored stone, was far worse off. Giant holes and jagged chunks of broken stone littered his rocky frame, but the poor excuse for a warrior squared off against the prince without missing a beat. This was the only being he’d encountered thus far to give him any sense of a challenge, and even so, its power level was a fucking joke.

_Gods, this is a waste of my time._

       His opponent yelled, a sound like boulders tumbling and scraping down the side of a cliff, deep and guttural. Vegeta released a vicious blast of energy that had been building in his palm, disintegrating his opponent with satisfying ferocity. When the dust settled and cleared, all that remained of the creature was a pile of blackened rubble, the stone remaining as useless and common as the gravel beneath the prince’s feet.

_Child’s play._

       Vegeta grimaced behind the respirator he wore, plopping himself down unceremoniously on a nearby boulder. Arêtes Phi, the soon to be re-classified Planet Frieza #483, was nothing more than a desolate, sulfuric hellhole. It had been almost three full days since he and Nappa had descended on this poor excuse for a planet. A cursory glance of the planet’s specs while en route gave the prince the distinct impression that it would be a cut and dry mission. A simple population culling, a day and a half max before moving on to the next location. It was, apparently, a bold assumption on his part to think the mission would be anything other than a complete and utter mess.

       Upon entry, the first problem arose when the saiyan warriors noted the air-quality was far and away below breathable levels. In fact, it was dangerously toxic, forcing the pair to don a set of light-weight, yet very obnoxious respirators. They were similar in fashion to the scouters they wore, having been made of the same alloy. Annoying, yes, but certainly not the first time they’d encountered such an issue. The more puzzling matter was that the information they had on the planet hadn’t mentioned a thing about the atmosphere being unaccommodating to mammalian life forms. Usually the briefings were meticulous, the nuances of every planet laid out in excruciating detail. After all, the more information, the smoother the takeover, and the faster the planet could be turned for a profit.

       The issues only became more and more apparent as they disembarked, searching for their targets. Strange, sentient rock denizens populated the planet, and they were a genuine pain in the ass. It wasn’t so much of an issue of power levels, it was more a matter of numbers and their ability to expertly camouflage themselves. Raining ki-blasts down like death from the heavens was ineffectual, the warriors just couldn’t tell if they were actually hitting any marks. The planet’s inhabitants had excessively low power-readings, which made the scouter’s functionality fluctuate. When he and Nappa decided to transform, letting their Oozaru forms run wild, the planet’s residents entrenched themselves further and further underground, rendering the elite saiyans’ hulking beast forms completely useless. The mission was turning into an exhaustive excavation operation, and they were teetering dangerously over-time.

       “Nappa, report.” The young saiyan barked over the scouter, unable to mask his frustrations. He dug out a ration pack, a bland, vacuum-sealed bar of sustenance meant for quick nourishment. It was by no means meant to routinely supplement full meals, but Vegeta was left with no choice.

       The prince ran his fingers through his hair, his irritation at an all time high. There were no organic life forms on this desolate rock. No plants, no animals. Hell, there wasn’t even fresh water available. There were only bumbling rock creatures and highly acidic rains. They could have been cleared to take along a larger ship with more appropriate rations, had they only known in advance what the mission truly entailed.  But now, being on the tail end of a three-day stretch with minimal supplies, it wouldn’t be much longer until they were completely out of food and water. Worst of all, the prince had a distinct, sinking feeling that this mission was handed to his team specifically for that reason.

       Minutes passed with no response from Nappa, and Vegeta bristled with aggravation. He awkwardly shoved the ration bar into his mouth, not wanting to risk exposure to the toxic air without the respirator secured. After a few moments of stilted, uncomfortable chewing, he was able to devour the entirety of the ration. During this bumbling feat, a small movement caught the corner of his eye. Without missing a beat, Vegeta fired a few quick ki blasts at the offending area, not really caring if there was a creature there to kill or not.

       “Nappa! Where the hell are you?” Vegeta shouted, his ire reaching unreasonable points, driven mostly by hunger.

       “Sorry Vegeta, I’m here, I hear ya. I think the ore in these mines are interfering with the scouter’s coms something fierce.” Nappa’s voice crackled through the com, a not so subtle confirmation to his claims. “I went underground after a few of these bastards, took out a whole colony! This planet better be worth it, because all of this shit just looks like dirty rocks to me.”

       “This is getting us nowhere. Come back here to regroup.” Vegeta complained as he stood, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck in a satisfying way.

       “We gotta get off of this stinking shithole. I’m tellin’ ya, everything literally smells like shit, even through the respirators!” Nappa quipped, sniffing in disgust.

       “Yes, yes, because of the sulfur, Nappa. I get it. Just get back here.” Vegeta rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for Nappa’s attempts at witty commentary.

       He didn’t have to wait long for his subordinate’s return. Within a few minutes, Nappa landed next to him, covered head to toe in dirt and grime and sweat. The large warrior sported his fair share of bruises and cuts, but other than some superficial damage, he didn’t seem too worse for the wear. He was quite reliable in that way.

       “Being here is pointless, I don’t care how valuable the planet is.” Vegeta stated without preamble, kicking the boulder he had been resting on only moment before, splitting it in two in his ire. “This should have been a siege for the ground troops to handle, not an elite level raid. Frieza clearly sent us here for his own sick amusement.” Vegeta fumed, wracking his brain, trying to see the reason behind this tongue-in-cheek mission. If Frieza wanted them dead, he would just do it himself. He wouldn’t wait for something at base and tawdry as poisoned air and starvation to do the trick.

       “Hmm, well… maybe this directive didn’t come from him. I didn’t wanna tell ya this, because you were already so strained from your last mission…” Nappa rubbed the back of his head, his eyes downcast in hesitation.

       “Spit it out, Nappa. I’m in no mood for a dramatic reveal.” Vegeta barked, crossing his arms.

       “While you were out on your last solo mission, well, we were gettin’ a little stir crazy. Zarbon came to the base for a routine inspection, and we ran into him. The pretty fuck made the usual off-hand comments about us being apes and all that nonsense, no big deal, right? Well, for some reason, it just really, really hit Raditz the wrong way. The kid got in Zarbon’s face, and he sent Raditz flyin’, just slapped him away like it was nothin’. Pretty embarrassing.” Nappa paused, chuckling a bit.

       “We’ve all come to conflict with Frieza’s officers before. If it were as simple as that, Raditz would have just found himself spending few days in the med bay and then it’d be business as usual.” Vegeta could already feel his blood boiling, knowing that there was more to the story.

       “Yeah, that ain’t it. Raditz decided to fuck with him… He was crazed after it, I couldn’t talk him down. You know how high-ranking officers get private rooms? The little shit broke into his private bath and used his stuff.” Nappa mused, crossing his massive arms across the great expanse of his chest.

       “He WHAT?” Vegeta balked, equal parts baffled and enraged. “Please, do not tell me that we were sent to this reeking, barren pit of death just because that fool decided to play a prank with a ranking officer’s toiletries?!”

       “Yeah, I think so. You know how vain that bitch of a lizard is. I heard Zarbon shrieking in the rec hall about some dark hair left behind in his bathtub and hairbrush and things just being all messed up. He went nuts, but he couldn’t rightly prove it was Raditz, so he probably gave us this mission instead. And the kicker to all of it is that stupid fucking furball ain’t even here to take the punishment.” Nappa shook his head, punctuating his disgust.

       Vegeta felt like he was going to have an aneurysm.

       “I’m going to fucking kill him, I swear it.” Vegeta jumped into the air, flying up and shot out a series of rancorous blasts at a nearby mountain, his aggression raining death upon any of the denizens that were foolish enough to still be idling above ground. Unable to restrain himself, Vegeta fell into a rigid stance, torso twisted back, his arms contorted above his right shoulder, cupping a blossoming ball of energy between his hands. With a furious yell, he swung his arms forward, releasing a ki blast powerful enough to level the entirety of the mountain before him. Ash and debris and boulders rained down in the wake of the discharge. The prince’s incandescent rage boiled over, his frustrations manifesting in blazing bolts of energy that crackled in the air around him. He wanted to _break_ someone. Anyone.

       “Feelin’ better?” Nappa snarked as Vegeta touched back down. The Saiyan Prince snarled in response, eyes crazed, his posture hunched and guarded. Nappa swore and dodged quickly to the side as Vegeta swung around, throwing a blast in his direction.

       "Don’t patronize me, I’m furious! I keep getting sent away on near suicide missions every other week, and meanwhile you and Raditz are acting like absolute clowns! And now I have to clean up the mess and take the punishment for those actions? Do you have any idea how maddening it is trying to keep ahead of your antics?” The prince shouted, his tail bristling and thrashing.

       “How is it my fault?” Nappa practically whined, incensed at the accusation.

       “You should have stopped him before he acted like a damn fool, you are just as guilty!” Vegeta threw out another series of blasts in Nappa’s direction, which the giant warrior immediately deflected, scattering the brutal blasts in all directions.

       “Vegeta, enough! Reel it back!” Nappa snapped, finally sick of his prince’s bullshit. He was used to Vegeta’s temper, but he was fast losing patience. This mission was getting under their skin, cracking and ripping them slowly apart, pulling already frayed wits to their limits. Killing each other wouldn’t do them any favors.

       “How dare you speak to me that way, I am your Prince!” Heaving, erratic breaths reverberated from the Prince of Saiyans, his slight frame shuddering and tense. He stared Nappa down, his eyes bloodshot, veins bright red and threatening to pop.

       “Yeah? Is that so?” Nappa retorted, rolling his neck until it cracked, pulling himself up to his full, imposing height. “Well why don’t you start actin’ like one instead of being a spoiled, asshole child!”

       “How dare you. How fucking dare you?!” Vegeta roared, launching himself at Nappa, who had the forethought to fall into a defensive stance. The prince threw a flurry of punches at his subordinate, who let out a grunt of frustration, but managed to block the assault.

       “Unbelievable! You wanna do this? Right now?” Nappa snarled, countering Vegeta’s assault by sweeping the smaller man’s his legs out from underneath him. He then rammed his palm against the smaller man’s clavicle, utilizing the force of the momentum to slam Vegeta viciously to the ground. The prince let out a strangled cry as he landed, the base of his spine driven into an outcropping of jagged stone on the unrelenting ground. Warm, acrid bile hit the back of his throat.

       “Has this place made you lose your damn mind?” Nappa shouted above him, using the force of his own weight to keep Vegeta pinned down with one arm.   His free hand came smashing into the ground next to the prince’s head. Vegeta reacted by firing a violent, searing, close range blast of ki into Nappa’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of the larger man. Nappa stumbled back, hunched over, one arm clutching his now smoldering core as Vegeta sprang back to his feet.

       “Don’t get cocky! How quickly you forget your place.” Vegeta laughed, a wild, near frantic sound. Fueled by venom and vitriol, Vegeta stalked up to Nappa and backhanded him with such force that the lager man went flying into a nearby boulder, breaking it on impact. He flew after him, landing on top of him, cracking his fist one, twice, a third time into the larger man’s face before reaching down to rip off Nappa’s respirator.

       Nappa’s eyes went wide, his breath suspended, his mouth clamped shut. The air was toxic, suffocating. One breath would send an unrelenting, vile poison into his system. Vegeta reached out a gloved hand, clamping it around the larger man’s throat.

       “You will never, _ever_ , speak to me that way again. Understood?” Vegeta snarled, tightening his grip around Nappa’s throat. The larger warrior stared him down, unmoved. Challenging.

       He could do it, he could kill Nappa right here and now for his insubordination, but that would make him no better than a tyrant. It would be exactly what Zarbon would want. Vegeta felt himself coming back to his senses. Blind rage simmered to fierce annoyance. He needed Nappa right now. Resentment, hunger, desperation was driving him to a point of irrationality.

       “This is your last chance. Do not forget where you stand.” He growled, releasing his grip on the other warrior and dropping the respirator to the ground. Nappa rubbed his neck, hesitating for a moment before reaching down for the life-saving apparatus.  

       “I’m not going to apologize.” Nappa stated once he got the respirator back on, his voice violent, his breath clawing out in great, heaving gasps.

       “I would never expect you to. But I do expect you to have a little more fucking tact when you speak to me.” Vegeta stated, his brow wrinkling in disgust as he adjusted his gloves. Bright red blood stained the knuckles.

       Nappa composed himself, trying in vain to brush the dirt and grime from himself. Scuffles like this weren’t uncommon amongst saiyan warriors, and he knew his place in all of this. Vegeta was stronger than him. He had to choose his battles wisely or risk losing his life.

       “We’re done here.” Vegeta barked, his whole body still heaving and shaking from adrenaline. “This is ridiculous. I’ll circle back to this planet and level the whole damn thing after I take care of the other three planets we were assigned to cull. At least those ones should have food.” Vegeta turned heel and headed back towards their pods, not waiting for Nappa to respond. The larger warrior grumbled but followed behind dutifully.

       A sudden alert on his scouter stopped Vegeta in his tracks. Raditz was hailing him, but it wasn’t from their usual, secured frequency. Odd. Odd and risky. The prince put up a hand, signaling Nappa to halt.

       Was something wrong? Had Raditz been compromised? He knew not to make contact at this stage unless there was an emergency. Vegeta bristled, trying not to overthink and sensationalize the endless possibilities. He received the transmission, pausing for a moment before addressing his subordinate.

       “This line is not secure.” Vegeta tried to speak calmly, carefully, closing his eyes to steady himself. No names. No emotion. Nothing incriminating. As much as he wanted to completely ream the other saiyan in this moment, there was too much at risk. Punishment would have to wait. If anyone were to intercept, he needed to make sure to rouse as little suspicion as possible. He silently prayed that Raditz had enough of a brain in his skull to be just as cautious.

       “I’ve been trying the other frequency for days, but I couldn’t patch through!” The static distorted Raditz’s voice greatly, but other than that, he sounded perfectly normal. Vegeta cast a sideways glance at Nappa. Anxiety thrummed through his chest, an unwelcomed compression cutting his breath short.

       “I’m tellin’ ya, Vegeta, its all the damn ore on this planet. It’s messing with the com’s frequencies.” Nappa grumbled, his voice low, spiked with an undercurrent of urgency.

       “Keep this brief, our targets could be listening.” Vegeta cautioned, keeping his speech intentionally vague. If anyone was listening in, he hoped that they would assume this was normal correspondence between his team of elites while working planet-side. So long as Raditz didn’t mention anything about being on a different planet, or anything in a similar vein, they would be okay.

       “Ooof, hey kid stop yankin’ on my hair for one second, will ya?” Static prickled through Raditz’s end. Laughter sounded in the background. There were at least two separate voices, both a few octaves or so higher than the wild-haired saiyan’s, the cadence strange. It was distant, but Vegeta picked up on a stray word or two and bristled. Had Raditz lost his mind? Making a call on an unsecured line with others present in the background?

       “You couldn’t have found a quieter area? You’re already breaking up.” Vegeta cautioned, hoping that something resembling even a single brain cell was functioning inside of Raditz’s mind. Who the hell was he with?

       “Shh! Just be quiet for a second!” Raditz hissed at whomever he was with before continuing. “Sorry, I’ve got my hands full over here. But everything’s okay. I found him, but you are never going to believe what’s going on!”

       <“Hey is that him? The vegetable Prince?”>

       <“Veggie Prince!”>

       “Kakarot, you and your son are the worst, just shut up! I’m trying to have a-“

       “Enough, I can’t hear you. We can discuss this further when we regroup.” Vegeta jumped in at the use of Kakarot’s name, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He ended the communication, his head spinning, hands trembling with rage.

       “What the hell was that all about?” Nappa remarked, raising a brow at the brief exchange.

       “He found Kakarot.” The prince was honestly shocked, his voice tight and guarded. He tried to take a calming breath, but he could barely keep himself composed, his posture was rigid, dangerous. Fingers curled, clutching into tight fists.   Agitation rocketed through every nerve, every fiber of his being.

_He’s actually alive. I can’t believe it._

       “Hey now! That’s good news!” Nappa’s jovial tone made Vegeta’s skin crawl. It should have been a joyous occasion, but he was too amped up at the potential repercussions of the discovery to relish in the small victory.

       “He said his name, a ‘dead’ saiyan’s name over an unsecured line, the moron. And if I heard correctly, Kakarot has a _child_.” Vegeta hissed, glaring at his subordinate. He was beyond livid, but he wasn’t sure what made him angrier, Raditz’s stupidity, or the idea of Kakarot breeding with the species of a planet he was meant to conquer.  

       “Ah shit, a kid? That definitely complicates things. What the hell was Kakarot thinking?”

       “I don’t make it my job to try and understand the minds of fools.” Vegeta walked on, his pace more urgent than before. Upon reaching the pods, he keyed in the code to open his, the hiss from the doors opening making his stomach drop. He hated these things, hated having to board them again so soon, but there was no time to waste. A quick glance reminded him that he’d defaced with the interior of his ship during a little fit in transit, and without missing a beat, turned heel towards Nappa’s ship instead.

       “We have to push forward. This may have compromised us, and I can’t afford to have anyone get in my way, not when we are so close to bolstering our ranks. Finding Kakarot is huge, for certain. Now that we’ve found him, we have to actually extract him without raising any flags. We need to get off planet so we can access our secured frequencies and establish a rendezvous point.” Vegeta keyed in the code to Nappa’s ship. Everything inside was still in tact. Good. He settled in, tail unfurling, the tip twitching in small, agitated flicks. He glanced up as the larger saiyan leaned one arm on the doorframe, staring curiously down at the prince.

       “Shit. We’re really doing this, huh?” The larger saiyan questioned, his tone apprehensive.

       “Was there ever a doubt? Nappa, when have I ever said something I did not entirely mean?” Vegeta fired back, genuinely curious. He felt he always spoke plainly with his subordinates. Brutally, yes, but honest. Mincing words in order to save face or preserve feelings was a waste of precious time.

       “Never. It’s just, well... A full scale mutiny is a tall order.” There was no humor, no trace of mockery in Nappa’s voice. To Vegeta, the seasoned warrior suddenly looked very, very old. Old and exhausted, but steadfast, never once wavering, his fealty absolute. Stubborn and pigheaded, for sure, but still a constant pillar of strength in Vegeta’s life. The mantle of loyalty weighed heavily on the warrior.

       “I know. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t have confidence in your abilities.” Vegeta’s tone was even, his gaze fierce, perhaps even a bit proud.

       “Geeze, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Vegeta. And even after you almost just killed me, too! You gettin’ sentimental on me?” The bald warrior teased, rolling his eyes.

       “I give rightful praise when it’s due. You just aren’t often deserving of it, you oaf.”  Vegeta raised a brow, glad for the respirator covering his mouth so Nappa couldn’t see the playful smirk that he couldn’t quite keep in check. The prince interlaced his fingers, settling his hands in his lap. He knew exactly what he was asking of his men. The desire to revolt against the tyrant that held them down has always been there, but to actually put words to action, well, it was a lot to expect. But the pieces were finally settling into place.

       There was no going back.

       “There’s a satellite way-station in a neutral territory several hundred clicks from here; you’ll find the coordinates already programmed into your pod. Stop off there, change out ships. Blow that fucking pod up before you leave, and do not contact me until you’ve collected my brother. I’ll assume you’ve failed if I don’t hear from you within the next week.” Vegeta’s hand hovered over the button to close the ship’s door, but paused a moment, his head tilted inquisitively to the side. “Oh, and one last thing, Nappa. Don’t say anything incriminating to my brother. I haven’t seen him since his exile. If he’s still anything like he was as a child, he’ll trust blindly. He doesn’t need to know anything about what our lives have become, he must only know that I’ve annulled his exile.”

       “You got it.” Nappa tapped his hand twice on the doorframe, sighing. “Be careful out there, Vegeta.” The warrior straightened up to his full height, closed his eyes, head bowed. A closed fist came to rest over his heart in deference to his prince. He looked as though he had something more to say on the subject, but he hesitated long enough for Vegeta to become impatient and close the door.

       The door clicked into place, air hissing, his ears popping as the environment within stabilized to livable standards. Vegeta ripped off the respirator, watching Nappa through the window as the large saiyan walked away to inspect his own battered accommodations, tossing the mangled pieces aside before settling in. After a few minutes, Nappa departed, his ship roaring away, leaving a cloud of dust and debris in its wake.

       The prince leaned back in his seat, puzzling out his next move. A small, involuntary twitch built with great intensity under his left eyelid. Disquiet flooded his core. Years ago, when his conscription into Frieza’s army became dreadfully permanent, he vowed to never display weakness. When he was told that an asteroid killed his people, he simply brushed if off as an inevitability, as something they deserved. His father had always said that death came swiftly for the weak, to those who allowed it, to those who welcomed it. They should have seen it coming.

       It didn’t matter.

       He had survived.

       He would never welcome death, but he was certainly courting it.

       Vegeta had done plenty of thinking over the years. He’d heard the whispers, been made privy to every torturous, painful rumor. The prince understood all too well how high the likelihood was of it being Frieza who destroyed the saiyans and not some rouge, undetectable asteroid. It would be foolish to ever think otherwise. But there was no concrete proof, and unless it came from the tyrant’s mouth, he would only be left to continuously wonder. Playing the ignorant fool was not his favored role, but he kept his head down in regards to the topic while carefully playing his cards for years, and it was finally time to cash in.

       It was still _terrifying_.

He brought his legs up to his chest, resting his forehead on his knees, wrapping his arms around himself, waiting for the moment of anxiety to pass. He’d never felt more vulnerable, diving in headfirst to a situation that could quite literally blow up in his face, and all by his own doing. If they were successful, he’d finally be free. Failure meant the eradication the last of his kind. Regardless of what happened, this was his responsibility.

       Life or death, it was all on him.

       He wasn’t quite sure how much time passed as he reflected, but his stomach rumbled, a harsh reminder that there was no time to for a nervous breakdown. He’d allow himself the luxury of emotion if he survived this mess.

       The prince pulled himself together, glancing through the missive’s specs on the remaining planets. Three additional planets total, each one as unappealing as the last. But at least these next ones had listings of organic life-forms and drinkable water. The promise of food, alone, was incentivizing enough to continue forward. He started keying in the coordinates for the nearest one when an alert on his scouter pinged. Vegeta narrowed his eyes. The scouter’s parameters were still on the fritz from the natural interference of the planet, so he was unable to get an ID on the incoming call. If Raditz was trying again through an unsecured line, he was going to fly to Earth in order to personally launch him into the nearest star.

       “Who the fuck is this?” The Saiyan Prince snarled, his patience non-existent.

       “Oh Prince Vegeta, that is no was to speak to a superior officer, especially when you are doing such rude things behind the Empire’s back! You cheeky monkey, what are you up to?” A voice simpered mockingly through the com, making Vegeta’s skin crawl.

       “Zarbon.” Vegeta stated, his blood turning to ice in his veins.

       “The one and only.” The general affirmed, sounding thoroughly amused.

       Vegeta’s jaw clenched.

_This cannot be happening, not right now!_

       “How is your current assignment is going, your highness? Are you enjoying the luxury accommodations that Arêtes Phi has to offer? I carefully curated the excursion for you and your little friends. I’ve heard that monkeys enjoy throwing rocks around, so I figured you’d be plenty entertained down there.” Zarbon could barely contain his glee, his voice saccharine and smug.

       Vegeta felt bile rising in his throat.

       “The planet is unremarkable, even more so now that it’s been depopulated. We’re about to head to our next mark, but, unfortunately, we’ve been having difficulty utilizing the Empire’s technology here. The ore on the planet has been interfering with our navigation signals, so it has delayed our departure significantly.” Vegeta reported, trying to keep his tone indifferent. It wasn’t exactly a lie, and hopefully it would buy him a little bit of credibility. Although, he knew that trying to retain any kind of clout in the eyes of someone who already thoroughly despised him would be near impossible.

       “The Empire’s technology is second to none. I highly doubt a few silly rocks could cause major interference. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how to use it, I know that complex tasks are difficult for you.” The general’s dismissive tones brokered no argument, but Vegeta couldn’t help but to scoff incredulously when some interference caused Zarbon’s voice to break up.

       “We’ll need to keep this brief, Zarbon. You’re already breaking up. I’ll have an extensive report for you to read through when I return. And you can bet it will go into exhaustive, meticulous detail about how to properly utilize elite troops so as to not waste Lord Frieza’s valuable time and resources over a simple grudge.” Vegeta fingers gripped harshly into his thighs as he focused all of his mental faculties on maintaining an even tone. The timing of Zarbon’s call was far too suspicious for his liking. The conversation needed to end.

       “Mmm! How interesting! I’d read the report, but I have difficulty understanding ape nonsense, so I shall have to wait until the texts are properly translated.” Zarbon tittered, thoroughly amused by his own words. Vegeta grit his teeth, blood boiling from the insults, but refusing to rise to the bait.

       “Is that all?”

       “No, it certainly is not! My, my, someone is in an especially impatient mood today!” The general admonished, his tone condescending.  “Upon closer inspection, it would seem you are not being fully honest with me. You say that you are still planet-side, but according to our reports, your pod is already in transit! And I see that your pod’s coordinate map is headed towards a way-station in Chronis Delta 375, which is quite a ways out of the from where your dispatch directives are. Any particular reason for this deviation?” Zarbon inquired slowly, each word carefully laced with sickeningly sweet poison.

       The creature’s demeaning nature and back-door questioning made Vegeta furious. He wished the general wouldn’t waste his time wrapping his questions up in patronizing little bows. He’d fucked up, and Zarbon knew it. Just how much he knew, Vegeta was uncertain, but he wouldn’t damn himself into revealing more than necessary just because of a little pressure. Of course they were tracking his pod, the one that Nappa was now taking. He’d been a fool not to take a moment to scramble the tracker in the ship. His fatigue and hunger made him careless. Foolish. Absolutely unacceptable. A mistake like this held dire consequences, but the only saving grace was the fact that Zarbon thought that he was the one on that ship.

       He suddenly had the opportunity to become invisible.

       “I’m detouring for supplies. There was no food or water to be harvested from this planet, and my men and I are suffering for it. I won’t continue the rest of the mission without proper sustenance. I’m not going to risk accessibility to basic requirements because of faulty information. Maybe it was an oversight due to that dull lizard brain of yours, but the directive mentioned nothing about the lack of organic life forms planet-side, so we were woefully underprepared in the rations department. Perhaps you ought to get out a bit more, do a little legwork and research before writing up your reports.” The quips flew from his mouth before he could stop them. He knew how to play the game with Frieza’s elites, but he felt that façade rapidly crumbling.

       His little stunt earned him a bout of oppressive silence.

       Hunger clawed at him. The prince wanted nothing more than to scream at Zarbon. He’d rip out his throat over this given the next opportunity.

       “Is there anything else?” He ventured, waiting for the inevitable backlash. The prince took an opportunity to quietly start combing through the code in this pod’s mainframe, looking for the honing signal it held in order to disable it.

       “Listen closely, derelict Prince. I’ll speak nice and slow so your tiny, simple mind can comprehend it. I don’t know what you’re up to, but mark my words, I will find out. In fact, I am coming to collect you, and you will tell me yourself. Lord Frieza might enjoy keeping you around for his amusement like a prized little pet, but I can smell the shit on you. I’ll get my answers.” Zarbon’s voice remained even, but all pretense of false sweetness had been dropped.

       “You broke up a bit there, didn’t quite catch that.” Vegeta stated simply, despite hearing every word. He smirked as he found the line of code he was looking for, typing in a quick override command in order to scramble his current ship’s signal. He had been lucky, only weeks prior he’d managed to bribe a technician on base to show him how to input such an override command. He just didn’t think he’d be implementing it so soon.

       “I’ll tear you apart for this insubordination. As far as I’m concerned, you and your little squad of apes are in severe need of retraining, and it will be an absolute pleasure for me to put you right back in your place. I hope you’re ready, false Prince. Enjoy your little romp while it lasts.” If Zarbon could have reached through the speakers to throttle Vegeta, the prince was sure he would have. His frustrations brought Vegeta immense pleasure. He smirked.

       “…., what was that? Zarbon you…. you’re…. up.” Vegeta deadpanned, cutting his sentences in an obviously fake way.

       “Vegeta, do not test me, you little-“

       “Could you…. Turning it off … on again? Cutting out…. repeat that?” The prince said in a bored tone, still making no effort to make the “break” in communications sound genuine. He wanted to tell Zarbon to simply go fuck himself, but there was something as equally fulfilling about messing with the general. Taking a page out of Raditz’s book felt pretty damn satisfying, though he would never admit it to the low-class warrior’s face. A callous grin crossed Vegeta’s features.

       “I know you are doing this on purpose, you fucking-“ Zarbon screeched right as Vegeta cut off communications. With a satisfying click, Vegeta executed the final line of coding to completely scramble his ship’s tracking signal. He let out a sigh, feeling a great sense of relief. Zarbon just made unwittingly made things a bit simpler for him. There was no longer a need to go about these directives, no longer a reason to play little games.

       His hands were shaking. Excitement and anxiety mixed in his chest, his mind racing with possibilities. He had a small, uncertain window of time to take advantage of; it absolutely could not be wasted. As he was now, there was no way he could take on Zarbon himself. Being intercepted was not an option. He would never survive the encounter. So long as they couldn’t unscramble the signal to his ship, he’d have ample time.

       Unwittingly, he’d put Nappa in a difficult predicament. Of course, he was greatly concerned about the general’s fleet tracking him, but Nappa was a seasoned warrior. Vegeta trusted that he would be able to outmaneuver them, especially with his head start. He just needed to get a different ship before they caught up to him. Nappa would be fine.

       Raditz, on the other hand…

       As soon as Zarbon realized that Vegeta wasn’t where he thought he was, he would start seeking out the others as a means to track him. Raditz would no doubt be his next target, especially given the low-class saiyan’s most recent offence against the general.

       Vegeta tapped two fingers against his lips thoughtfully. Strength in numbers, it was the most obvious option. He could deal with his hunger for a short while longer.

       With decisive strokes, the Saiyan Prince input the coordinates for Earth. Just a day and a half out. The pod launched, leaving the sulfuric nightmare planet behind. The cool, dead silence of space embraced him like an old friend, the vast tapestry of stars spread before him filling him with courage, with hope.

       Vegeta closed his eyes, tapping the side of his scouter, the line on the other end answering almost instantly.

       “Vegeta? I’m sorry about last time, I-“

       “Shut up, Raditz. Stay where you are, I’m coming to Earth. There’d better be a fucking feast waiting for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun to write, I'm excited to get things moving! I just want to get more people in the same place, especially so Vegeta and Goku can finally interact!
> 
> I think Nappa is a really important character, especially in regards to Vegeta. He pretty much ended up raising him, and it was fun to highlight him a bit in this chapter. 
> 
> At some point, I really wanna dive deeper into some of the horrid traumas that Vegeta has experienced from being Freiza's army. There's a lot to unpack there.
> 
> Next chapter everyone gets to meet up woo! Let me know what you think <3


	6. Carry On (just don't get ahead of yourself)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes those anxieties are a bit too loud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter runs parallel time-wise to the last chapter, we are following up with what is happening on Earth while Vegeta is on Arêtes Phi. Enjoy!

       “What the HELL happened?”

       Chi-Chi struck an imposing figure, one arm wrapped around her small son, who buried his face in the crook of her neck, the other poised defiantly on her hip. Her eyes combed furiously over the ragtag group in her front yard; her husband’s bloodied, muck-smeared figure, the apologetic and uncertain amalgamation of close friends (who couldn’t seem to be bothered to visit unless there was a crisis), and finally, to the wild-haired, armored stranger with the blood streaked face.

       The sight left her _apoplectic_.

       “Eheh, Chi-Chi, well, you see…” Goku scratched the back of his head, searching for a way to begin. Now that the adrenaline of the fight was wearing down, he realized that going back to his house in this state wasn’t the greatest idea. He could practically feel the weight of his wife’s anger bearing down on him, a threat far more frightening than anything he’d faced in the past. How would he even begin to explain things?

       To his right, Raditz snickered. So this was Kakarot’s mate? There was a barely discernible power level, and yet the warrior seemed to cower at the sight of her. Interesting.

       “Not you, Goku. You.” Chi-Chi seethed, pointing dramatically at Bulma. Bulma’s eyes grew wide in shock, mouthing a quite “me?” while pointing at herself, her eyes frantically flickering over to her companions for help. Goku’s shoulders sagged, his breath leaving him in a relieved woosh. Everyone else conveniently looked away, not wanting to get roped into the situation. Bulma bristled, smacking the back of Goku’s head.

       “Yes, you! You’re the only one here who I trust to give me the full story. Spit it out, then!” Chi-Chi fumed.

       “Traitors.” Bulma hissed quietly before breaking away from the group. “Let’s go inside, okay Chi-Chi? This could take a while.” Bulma soothed, guiding her friend indoors while casting a heated glare over her shoulder at her companions. Quelling Chi-Chi’s rage would be no small task; Bulma made note of everyone’s reluctance to help.

       “Daddy, you’re hurt!” Gohan disentangled himself from his mother as she was ushered inside and made a beeline for his father. The child let out a startled cry at the sight of the state of him. Great, hiccupping sobs wracked through his small body, his tail flicking back and forth in distress.

       “Aww no, no hey Gohan, it’s okay! I’m fine, see? I just look really dirty and gross, but I’m good as new. I’m super strong, remember?” Goku laughed, overwhelmed by his son’s concern, holding him tight. A handful of soothing reassurances later, the full-scale wailing dissipated to sporadic sniffles once Goku finally convinced him he was okay.

       Raditz watched the interaction with great interest and measured apprehension. Clearly, earthling sentiments had rubbed off on Kakarot. The way he soothed his son was by no means saiyan-like. The boy should have been proud to see his father standing after a fight. Despite the softness of their interactions, there was no denying that both of them had power and ability. Raditz scrutinized the boy through the lens of his scouter, marveling at the way the his power spiked to astronomical heights in the face of such emotion.

       “Kakarot, this is your son? His power level is insane, how did I not see it when we first arrived? Or yours, for that matter?” Raditz was genuinely taken aback at the amount of power contained in the small child. He’d expected some power, yes, but the fact that he wasn’t a pure saiyan made Raditz skeptical of his ability. However, after getting a read on his scouter, there was no denying that the kid had great potential. Someone of that scale would absolutely be considered for elite rankings back on Vegetasei. Earth was already proving to be full of surprises.

       “Huh? We know how to lower and mask our ki. Makes it so we don’t exhaust ourselves. Don’t you get tired leaving yours all big and loose all of the time?” Goku queried, genuinely confused. He thought that all strong warriors knew how to control their ki. Even Gohan could do it, he thought it was pretty basic level stuff.

       “I, well...” Raditz hesitated, searching for the right way to explain. Truth be told, he really didn’t know how to mask his power, or sense it in the same way that Kakarot and his earthling friends seemed to. He was not too keen on admitting that he might not know how to do something that his little brother did.

       “I should probably contact Vegeta and let him know I found you.” Raditz announced, perhaps a little too loudly, solidly pivoting away from the subject. “He never told me what to do with you once I found you. I don’t think he really believed that you’d be alive.   Honestly, neither did I.” He fiddled with a few settings on his scouter, preparing to hail the prince.

       “Ohhhh, does that thing make deep space phone calls? What language is that flashing across the screen? You said it reads power levels, too?   What else can it do?” Krillin asked, inching forward, curiosity winning out over caution. Raditz stopped short, his hand hovering over the scouter as he looked down severely at the human. He had a look on his face like he’d forgotten that anyone else was there.

       “It does… many things…” Raditz responded, guarded and a bit ruffled. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting around the little group of earthlings. He felt terribly ridiculous in his current company. He wasn’t a fan of having such an audience, especially when hailing Vegeta.

       Yamcha put a hand on the Krillin’s shoulder and shook his head. Krillin mouthed a silent “What?” at the taller man, and Yamcha just sighed irritably.  An air of apprehension still hung around the group. They were quite unsure of how to navigate the situation.

       “Did your call get through?” Goku asked, oblivious to the tension that still hung in the air.

       “Not yet. Just do me a favor and be quiet unless I tell you. The Prince is a little < _asshole_ > sometimes.” Raditz responded, perhaps a bit too sharply. He refocused on hailing the right frequency, his expression growing more and more grim and frustrated by the moment. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, hear the somewhat frantic, whispered tones of their side conversations. Put him on edge.

       “That’s odd, I can’t seem to get through… the frequency is jammed somehow.” Raditz tapped at his scouter a few times, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The saiyan warrior muttered a string of curses in his native tongue under his breath. The group of earthlings shifted and shuffled in apprehension.

       As Raditz wracked is brain trying to figure out why he couldn’t get through, the door to the house opened once again, and Bulma stepped back outside. She looked particularly smug as she approached the group.

       “Get inside, Goku, you better smooth things over with Chi-Chi before she rips your damn head off. She’s not too crazy about this whole ‘alien brother’ thing. And I didn’t tell her a anything about you flying off into space. You can tell her that one yourself, buddy.”   She reached out and plucked the sleepy toddler from Goku’s arms. The warrior stood frozen to the spot, looking around for someone, anyone who could deal with this in his place. Genuine fear flashed across his features.

       “It’s your funeral, Goku.” Tien joked, gesturing for Goku to go inside.

       “C’mon, that’s not funny! I’m no good at these kinds of things, she’s gonna be mad at me for ages. It’s not my fault that I’m suddenly from space!” Goku whined. He dragged himself inside, regardless, not wanting to let his wife’s ire build up any more than it already had.

       “You might have already outworn your welcome, big guy.” Bulma stated, catching Raditz’s eye.

       “Is Kakarot’s mate really that powerful? I’m not picking up on anything on my scouter from her.” The saiyan queried, genuinely confused. He locked eyes with Gohan, who was staring cautiously at him from behind the fringe of his hair. The child broke off eye-contact shortly after, burying his face against Bulma. She absently patted his back.

       Murmurs of assent sounded around the yard, coupled with a scattering of uncomfortable chuckles.

       “Look, don’t worry so much about Chi-Chi. She’s just really passionate. Maybe just don’t talk a bunch about flying through deep space when you meet her.” Bulma said with a dismissive wave. “I, on the other hand, wanna hear all about it. You’re going to have to let me take a look at that ship of yours. And of course, I’ll help you repair Goku’s once we find it. Once things settle down in there, the rest of us will get going. A lot happened tonight, and I’m going to need to stop by my place for supplies. We can get started tomorrow.” Bulma rattled off rapidly, her tone brokering no room for argument.

       Raditz stared at the blue haired earthling, blinking rapidly. It took him a moment to process everything she said, partially because she spoke so fast. The language was certainly similar to Galactic Standard, but his brain churned into overdrive trying to compensate for the gaps and translate it into something more digestible.

       “I never said anything about needing your help.” Raditz stated once the bulk of what was said sank in. He crossed his arms, drawing himself up to his full height, bristling at the earthling’s presumptuous nature.

       “What, were you expecting Goku to help you out with that bit? He’s a good guy, but he’s as dumb as a bag of rocks. I can fix his ship.” Bulma stared down Raditz, her eyes ablaze with the fire of a challenge.

       “That’s doubtful.” Raditz raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with tired skepticism.

       “Oh, try me! Listen buddy, that airship over there? I’m the one who built it. And that’s only a small taste of what I can do. Give me a day to run diagnostics on your ship. Based on what I find with yours, I’ll be able to fix up Goku’s up in no time. You should count yourself lucky, running into the smartest person on Earth on your first day here.” Bulma retorted, her voice incredulous.

       “I don’t think you are understanding me. The Empire’s technology is beyond your planet’s wildest dreams.” Raditz let out a haughty laugh, shaking his head.

       “Why, how dare you? Of course I understand, that’s exactly why I need to be there to study it.” Bulma handed Gohan off to Yamcha, startling the poor man as he fumbled to carefully take hold of the boy.   Bulma stalked up to Raditz, puffed up and ready for a fight. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. Besides, what do you have to lose? Are you afraid that I’ll understand your tech a bit too much? Be able to replicate it, or hell, make something even better? You probably won’t be able to fix his ship if it’s in really rough shape, so what’s the harm in letting me have a crack at it? What about fuel? What about parts? You’re talking about a ship that crashed here a little over twenty years ago. Supplies for that kind of tech doesn’t just grow on trees. What’s exactly did you expect coming out here-”

       “Stop!” Raditz interjected, his voice raised in annoyance, halting Bulma in her tracks. “Just stop talking.” He put his hands up as if warding her away, a low rumble sounding in the back of his throat.  Did all earthlings talk this much?

       Bulma was about to burn him to the ground for raising his voice, but she suddenly snapped her mouth shut. It dawned on her that she was dealing with someone who could, in fact, kill her on the spot. She took a few cautionary steps back as Raditz pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. The warrior winced at the contact, having forgotten that his nose had only very recently been very, very broken. He let out a gravelly noise of frustration, and threw his hands up in the air. His tail whipped back and forth, fur puffed from agitation.

       “Do what you want, just please, stop talking so much. Too fast, I cannot understand fully. I’m too tired right now.” He spoke through gritted teeth, covering his eyes with one hand, his breaths slow and deep and calculated as he tried to calm himself down. The absurdity of the evening was truly hitting home, and he found himself regretting his decision to spare the lives of these earthlings. If it meant Kakarot coming along without more of a fight, he would keep his word. But he did not have to like it. And he certainly did not have to make friends.

       “It has been a long night for us all. Perhaps it would be best if we left the subject alone for now.” Tien said cautiously, moving forward to put himself bodily between Bulma and Raditz.

       “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll come back tomorrow and we can get to work. I have a mobile lab for just such an occasion, it’s gonna blow your mind, radish boy.” Bulma couldn’t help but to fire off one more shot. Tien glared at her, and she stuck out her tongue in stubborn defiance.

       “Guys? Everything okay out here? Chi-Chi says you can come inside now if you want to. I think she’s okay.” Goku appeared in the doorway, a look of utter bewilderment on his face. He’d changed his clothes and washed his face up a bit, but still looked like he’d been rolling around in the dirt for a few days.

       “Actually, we were all just about to leave for the night. Seems like you've got things under control, and everyone could use some rest.” Yamcha piped up, handing over a now very sleepy Gohan to his father. A murmur of agreements came from the group. The night had been so surreal, and now that things had settled a bit everyone was feeling the weight of it in their bones.

       “I know it’s not an ideal time to bring this up, but I can feel Piccolo lurking nearby. He’s been tracking us since we got to the forest.” Krillin mentioned, an involuntary shiver running through him. He did not care much for Goku’s rival, and the proximity put him on edge.

       “I’ll go deal with him. The last thing we need right now is another conflict.” Tien gestured towards Raditz. The group knew that Piccolo could very easily undo the fragile, tenuous truce they seemed to have forged with their newfound space acquaintance. The last thing the needed was for Raditz to change his mind and go on a rampage through Earth because someone pissed him off.

       “Oh! Tell him I said hi and that I’m ready for a rematch anytime, okay Tien?” Goku chirped with a bit too much excitement. Maybe if he snuck out he could go along himself, sneak in a quick match…

       “Goku… You know he wants to kill you, right? You aren’t friends.” Tien stated, genuinely baffled.

       “I’ll beat him before he does that, don’t worry.”

       “Right. I’m sure. See ya, Goku.” Tien waved and took off into the night. The others said their goodbyes and followed suit, some flying, others filtering towards Bulma’s ship.

       Raditz stood alone, still fidgeting with his scouter.

       Nothing.

       Why the hell couldn’t he get a hold of Vegeta? Had something gone wrong? Was he too far out of reach? What if Vegeta's plans were discovered, and he was compromised? What if he was stranded on this planet? What if he was being abandoned, left alone on this mud ball with a bunch of weaklings? What if this had all been an elaborate ruse to get rid of him?

       “Raditz, come inside.” Goku’s voice rang pleasantly through the silence, breaking Raditz of his spiraling thoughts. He hesitated for a moment, casting a glance over his shoulder, back towards the mountain where his own ship had landed. He didn’t think he would rest much tonight regardless, but Kakarot’s home seemed far more comfortable than his own shitty pod.

       With his tail flicking in agitation, Raditz followed his brother inside.    

\------

 

       Earth was loud _._

       Despite being secluded in the mountains, surrounded by endless forest, the whole place was saturated with sounds and commotion. Raditz had become quite accustomed to ambient noise, being stuck on ships for the majority of his life. But the undercurrent of ventilation units was controlled, expected. Rhythmic and ordinary. Here on Earth, the stirrings of wildlife never quite ceased. Acclimating was difficult, to say the least. In the night, creatures cried and cackled and crowed, a cacophony of endless chittering. In the mornings, more pleasant sounds surfaced, but still endlessly rising in volume, soft susurrations spiraling into screeching calls. When the animals seemed to finally settle, the humans filled in the gaps.

       A gale of laughter, a yell of delight. The kettle reaching a shrill whistle, the pop of grease catching flame in a cast iron pan.

       Damn, it never stopped.

       As Raditz unfolded himself from his nest of blankets, he let out his own noise of frustration that blended in seamlessly with the wildlife nattering on outside. Even after several days, he couldn’t quite get used to the noise. Fitful rest left him loathe to leave the comfort of the living room couch. The accommodation was downright luxurious given that his most recent quarters had been either a standard issue cot or the seat of his small, cramped pod. After a moment or two, he managed to wriggle himself out of the cocoon of blankets, stretching his arms above is head with a small grunt of satisfaction, his feet touching the carpet. He sat forward for a bit, starting at nothing in particular, elbows resting on his knees, a deep, powerful yawn rumbling through his chest.

       A glint caught his eye, the morning sun reflecting off of the green glass of his scouter, which lay discarded on a low coffee table. He grabbed the gadget, affixing it deftly into place over his ear, quickly scanning to see if he’d missed any attempts of contact in the night.

       Nothing.

       A few quick clicks, another attempt at hailing his prince’s preferred, secured frequency.

       “<Come in, you asshole…>” he murmured in his native tongue, his voice barely a whisper for fear of missing something through the scouter. Moments ticked by, agonizingly slow.

_Nothing._

       Several days had passed since he’d landed on earth, and the complete radio silence worried him. He understood Vegeta’s desire for discretion, but Raditz’s hands were well and truly tied. They had unearthed Kakarot’s ship, and repairs were going smoothly. In fact, they would be finished within the next day or so, due in large part to Bulma’s help, much to Raditz’s chagrin. But that wouldn’t do shit for him if he couldn’t contact Vegeta for a rendezvous point. He trusted Prince Vegeta, but he was becoming more and more anxious as the silence stretched on. Had something with the mission gone awry?

       The smell of savory Earth foods wafted gently towards him, breaking him from his brooding thoughts. Finally, he rose, leaving the blankets to slump onto unceremoniously the floor in his wake. He kept his scouter on, just in case.

       “That’s a lot of food.” The saiyan warrior leaned against the doorframe of the small kitchen, idly scratching his exposed abdomen as another yawn rippled through him. Chi-Chi turned to glance at the wild haired saiyan, sniffing in disdain at his blunt remark and sleep-disheveled state before turning back to the task at hand.

       “Well, I can’t exactly have you going out to slaughter a deer in the yard every time you get a little hungry.” Chi-Chi quipped, cracking an egg expertly with one hand, a sizzle cutting through the air as the yolk hit the pan. She had several pots and pans bubbling and sizzling away on the stove, the counter behind her already piled high with succulent meats, porridges, and fruits. Enough to feed a small army.

       “I don’t understand why not. Meat is perfectly good whether I wait for you to cook it or not.” Raditz shrugged, watching with great amusement as his brother’s mate visibly bristled. He had a sudden, visceral flashback to his own mother butchering and preparing meat during the early years of his childhood, before he was conscripted to be a part of Prince Vegeta’s personal retinue. His mother chastised him in similar ways for his lack of tableside manner. She had been gentle, for a saiyan.

       Simpler times.

       Over the past few days, he’d learned a thing or two about earthling culture, a very foreign and strange culture for him to navigate, full of politeness, humility, and lots and lots of wasted words. It all seemed terribly convoluted to him, but these little rituals and manners seemed important to them. However, that didn’t stop him from wanting to tease them from time to time. It was especially easy to do with Chi-Chi. His brother’s mate was certainly headstrong, and made it her business to be as straightforward in her disapproval of the saiyan warrior as possible.

       “Regardless, you keep that kind of nonsense away from my house. I won’t have you insulting my cooking by eating a raw animal moments after.” She sharply tapped a wooden spoon on the edge of a pot she had been stirring before putting the utensil down. She spun around, her hands on her hips, looking Radtiz up and down with a glare heated enough to melt iron. “The boys are outside, go join them and leave me in peace, won’t you? And put a shirt on.” She said with a dismissive wave of the hand.

       “Sure, fine. What ever you say, Chi.” Raditz grinned turning on his heel to retreat back to his makeshift room in order to dig out some kind of shirt. The earthlings had insisted on giving him clothing to wear, claiming that wearing his armor all the time impractical. It was a strange suggestion, but there was something rather liberating about the lightly woven cloth of Earth garments. A welcomed reprieve, for certain. He tied his unruly mane of hair back and threw on a simple white tank-top and a pair of linen pants before wandering back through the kitchen to head outside.

       “Wait a minute!” Chi-Chi called, halting Raditz before he headed out. “Here.” Chi-Chi huffed, thrusting a mug of black coffee into Raditz’s hands. The saiyan warrior cupped the vessel with care, having shattered several of them days prior from the strength of his grip. earthling flatware was not conducive to saiyan strength.

       “Oh.” he quirked a brow, oddly moved by the gesture, staring blankly at Chi-Chi, perhaps for a moment too long. She looked away.

       “Thanks.” He murmured, ducking his head slightly. His tail waved in lazy circles, a small gesture of delight that was ultimately lost on Chi-Chi. Coffee was good. He’d taken a shine to the bitter, unctuous beverage, and was quite pleased that she noticed. The drink reminded him of a concoction from his home world, a harsh tincture brewed from a native root that he and his companions often partook of during long missions. Of course, they’d run out of that years ago, the plant having gone extinct with the destruction of Planet Vegeta.

       “When you leave, I’ll make sure to send you along with some coffee beans. I’ll have to show you how to properly grind and brew it. Even a brute like you should be able to handle that.” She crossed her arms, her brow knit as she sized up her hulking brother-in-law. A small smile tugged the corner of her mouth. Raditz was rougher than Goku, for certain, but Chi-Chi could see some semblance of their relation after a few days. Even though his entrance had rocked her entire home and scared the shit out of her, she found her anger towards him waning ever so slightly. However, she would be happy to soon be rid of him.

       “Yes. I would like that.” Raditz raised his cup in thanks and finally headed outside. The morning sun greeted him warmly, a soft breeze tickling across his skin.

       Out in the yard, Goku and Gohan were in the middle of running through their katas. Raditz hopped up to sit on a wooden barrel, sipping his coffee and watching his brother with only half attention. He was curious about the forms, but didn’t feel entirely compelled to join. Training was never his favored activity, a curse of being naturally strong, and an attitude that often got him in trouble with his fellows.   But training seemed to be the focus of his brother’s life.

       “Uncle Raditz!” Gohan cried out in way of greeting, his whole body vibrating as he strained to hold his positions. Raditz raised a hand in acknowledgement. It was still so strange, this newfound family. He wasn’t quite sure how to navigate being so warmly and readily welcomed, especially by his tiny nephew. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. It was just, well… it was different.

       “Focus, Gohan. You can go say hi after we’re finished here, okay?” Goku chastised, nodding a quick hello to his brother, but not wanting to break the rhythm of their morning routine.   “Alright, remember, proper breathing is the most important part of maintaining your forms. That’s it, nice and slow.” Goku coached his son, moving with grace and ease. Goku closed his eyes and slowed his own breathing, smiling a bit as he felt his son’s ki fluctuate to match the fluidity of the movements. For such a small boy, he already had incredible control over his power. He couldn’t be prouder.

       Watching them train elicited a warm feeling deep in Raditz’s guts. Maybe there was hope to revive the Saiyan race, after all.  

       Time passed, the Son boys wrapped up their routines and idled the time away with Raditz while Chi-Chi finished up cooking. Gohan ran around the yard, examining every bug, every flower, every blade of grass he could get his hands on.

       “Is Bulma coming by again today?” Goku queried. He sprawled out on his back, one arm reaching towards the sky, looking at the clouds drifting idly through his fingers.

       “Mm, possibly.” Raditz replied, taking the last sip from his cup. “She’s engineering the pod’s fuel right now. If I had known I’d be coming all the way out here to get you when I left base, I would’ve prepared enough backup fuel. But the Prince sprung this on me last minute. I have enough fuel for my pod, but not for yours.”

       “I don’t understand why we can’t just take one ship.” Goku prodded, smiling softly when a dragonfly flitted around his outstretched hand, hovering over his palm.

       “Are you serious? Being stuffed into one by myself is hellish enough. If it came down to sharing one, I’d leave your ass behind.” Raditz huffed, exasperated at the very thought. “Besides, your pod wasn’t too badly damaged. Just old. I can probably finish up the rest of the repairs by myself. Just need the damn fuel. Maybe in a couple of days we’ll be ready to go.”

       “A couple of days. Huh. I should probably tell Chi-Chi.” Goku idly mused.

       “You haven’t told her yet?” Raditz balked, completely thrown by how dense his brother was. And here he thought this whole time Chi-Chi was meeting him with measured hostility because he was taking Kakarot away from their home.

       “Yeah, it hasn’t come up. I don’t think she’ll like it. I was, uh, hoping to tell her when we are ready to go.” Goku admitted sheepishly. He didn’t want to lie to his wife of course. But he also didn’t want to upset her, especially when he was so close to going on such a big adventure.  So maybe, just maybe, a little non-truth was the best way to go.

       “None of your friends have mentioned it at all to her? She hasn’t wondered why we are repairing your old ship? Do you really think she doesn’t know?”

       “If she knew, we probably wouldn’t be hanging out!” Goku laughed, his tone carefree. He sat up, giggling at Raditz’s befuddled expression. “Don’t worry about Chi-Chi, I do crazy stuff all the time! With her, its kinda easier to just do it, let her be mad for a bit, and then wait for her to come around afterwards.”

       “I’m no expert on relationships, Kakarot, but that sounds like a terrible way to handle this. Whatever, she’s not my mate.” Raditz raised his hands in mock defeat before hopping down from the barrel. If there was one thing he’d gleaned from his short time on Earth, it was that earthlings were oddly sensitive. He wasn’t about to coach his brother on how to interact with them, but it was a little jarring to see that he didn’t quite know how to navigate around the people he’d spent his whole life with.

       Chi-Chi’s voice rang out, announcing breakfast, and Goku shot to his feet, putting one finger to his lips. “Remember, don’t mention the trip to her! I’ll handle it, I promise.”

       “You’re acting as though we’re going on vacation, and not about to, I don’t know, confront the universe’s most powerful and dangerous empire.” Raditz rolled his eyes, but nodded, not wanting to get in the way of marital affairs.

       "The most powerful, really? That’s exciting! This Vegeta guy must be pretty strong, too, if he wants to take guys like that on.” Goku’s cavalier tone made Raditz bristle. The idiot had no clue what he was getting himself into.

       “It’s a little more personal than that, Kakarot.  You don't get it. We were stripped of our very way of life.  That meteor hit, destroyed our people, and Frieza swooped in and beat our culture, our very core out of us.  Vegeta’s been planning for us to break away from Frieza’s army ever since our planet was destroyed, but he’s had to be cautious. We were only kids when it happened, not nearly strong enough to try and pull something like this…” Raditz tapered off, not wanting to air his grievances too loudly, lest his hesitance seep into his words.

       “It’s no big deal, Raditz.  That's enough, really. You said you guys need a hand, and I like to fight strong guys. I don’t really need any details past that.” Goku spoke with surprising finality, pivoting hard away from hearing anything more about Raditz's history. He shrugged and went inside, eager to eat breakfast.  Raditz lingered a moment more outside, puzzled by his brother's apparent indifference.  Hunger won out, and he ventured inside.

       Despite how long it took to prepare, breakfast was a remarkably brief affair. The Son family tucked in with reckless abandon, and Raditz joined them in their fervor, laughing and taunting his younger brother as they battled over the last morsels.

       As a favor to Chi-Chi, and much to her delight, Raditz volunteered to clean up, a gesture that caught her by surprise. She nodded approvingly, and took the moment to slyly rope Goku and Gohan into helping as well. Before the boys could protest, she laughed wickedly and ran out the door to head into town to run some errands.

       After a handful of broken dishes, a towel whipping fight, and a flooded kitchen floor fiasco, the boys finally retreated to the living room to relax. Raditz spent some time teaching Gohan a few words and  phrases in their native tongue.  The kid was smart and eager to learn,  picking up aspects of the language with surprising deftness, unlike his father, who was struggling just to emulate some of the baseline tones of the language.  

       Soon enough, Gohan's attention waned, and he moved on to other activities.  Raditz sat back on the couch, absently hailing Vegeta, frowning deeply as he idly switched between several frequencies that he was known to use. Raditz listened with half attention as Gohan prattled on wildly about a dinosaur he saw roaming in the distant valley earlier that morning, his excitement escalating with each passing breath.

       “And then of stomped around and birds flew out in every direction and he roared really big and it was so scary but he was really cool and-“

       A loud crackle sounded in Raditz’s ear.

       “<This line is not secure.>” A terse voice spoke through the line, sharp and agitated. Raditz jumped to his feet, his heart nearly leaping into his throat as he recognized his prince’s voice. He was okay! He put up his hand to quiet is nephew down, but the child continued to chitter excitedly about his earlier findings.

       “<I’ve been trying the other frequency for days, but I couldn’t patch through!>” Raditz spoke rapidly in native Saiyan tongue, his relief palpable. He clamped one hand over his free ear to block out the sounds around him and signaled with his free hand for his family to quiet down.  

       “<Keep this brief, our targets could be listening.>” Vegeta cautioned. He sounded particularly wound up. Was something wrong?

       Just as Raditz was about to reply, a sharp pain raked through the back of his head. Gohan had jumped up and started climbing his hair, a new, favored game of the kid’s when he wanted to play or spar. Raditz didn’t mind the rough play, he found it endearing and even encouraged it, much Chi-Chi’s chagrin. But this was the first time he’d gotten through to Vegeta in ages, he wasn’t about to let the signal drop.

       “Ooof, hey kid stop yankin’ on my hair for one second, will ya?” Raditz scooped Gohan under one arm with ease, the kid flopping and squealing in his grip.

       “<You couldn’t have found a quieter area? You’re already breaking up.>” Vegeta barked, static pervading his speech.

       Shit.

       Why was the connection be so unstable? Raditz tensed, putting Gohan on the ground and staying stock-still.

       “Shh! Just be quiet for a second!” Raditz hissed out, “<Sorry, I’ve got my hands full over here. But everything’s okay. I found him, but you are never going to believe what’s going on!>”

       “Hey is that him? The vegetable Prince?” Goku queried, his excitement palpable. He got in close, leaning his ear towards Raditz’s scouter, trying to eavesdrop one the conversation. Raditz made a disgruntled noise and pushed his brother’s face away.

       “Veggie Prince!” Gohan cried out, hugging himself around Raditz’s leg.

       “Kakarot, you and your son are the worst, just shut up! I’m trying to have a conversation here!“ Raditz barked out, chastising them sharply.

       “<Enough, I can’t hear you.>” Vegeta cut in severely. “<We can discuss this further when we regroup.>” And with that, the line went dead once more.

       “He cut communications! Dammit, Kakarot, that was an important call, and he dropped the line because of you! I don’t think you really understand how precarious this situation is.” Raditz raged. The others fell silent, their faces falling. “There’s no telling when I’ll be able to get a hold of him again.” Raditz deflated, his anger tapering away to surly frustration.

       “Sorry, I just got excited.” Goku stated quietly, picking Gohan up. His son wrapped his tail around his father’s wrist for comfort. “After everything you told me, I just really wanna meet him. It sounds like he’ll give me a good fight.”

       “Don’t assume that Prince Vegeta would ever lower himself to fight you, Kakarot. You’re nothing compared to him. Try beating me first, then maybe you’ll get a chance with him.” Raditz scoffed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s brashness. He’d barely survived their first encounter, and he was already looking for the next big thing. He was more saiyan than he would ever know.

       “Mm. I know I’ll beat you. And then I’ll beat Vegeta. And then I’ll beat the guy that you guys wanna take down.” Goku replied simply, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

       “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

       “No. Why would you say that?”

       “Nevermind. I need some air.” Raditz pushed past his brother and headed outside, the cool mountain air a welcome balm to his simmering anger. He needed to take his mind off of things for a while. Do something useful. So he went to the makeshift workshop he’d set up and got down to working on repairing Kakarot’s run-down pod.

       After an hour or so, Goku made his way over, two steaming cups of tea in hand. He silently handed one over to Raditz, who accepted it without comment. The two stood side by side, staring at the ship.

       “Sorry about earlier.” Goku broke the silence, looking at his brother out of the corner of is eye. He idly scuffed one boot against the ground.

       “Don’t worry about it.” Raditz grunted before taking a sip of his tea.  “Vegeta has his own missions to fulfill. It was foolish of me to contact him on an unsecured line like that. I could have compromised everything. I just hate not knowing what to do next. He will contact me when he’s ready, I guess. It’s not like we could leave today, not with your ship still like this.” Raditz remarked, sounding more flippant about it than he felt.

       "What if we don’t hear back from him?” Goku asked quietly.

       Raditz shrugged. He didn’t want to think about it.

       His scouter pinged. A message from the old, secured line! Raditz scrambled to answer, his heart racing.

       “<Vegeta? I’m sorry about last time, I->“

       “<Shut up, Raditz. Stay where you are, I’m coming to Earth. There’d better be a fucking feast waiting for me.>” The line cut off, leaving no room for argument. Raditz starred at his brother.

       “What? What happened?”

       “He’s coming. Vegeta is on his way to Earth right now.” He stated in disbelief. Something was wrong. There was no reason for Vegeta to come out all of this way. What about the missions he was supposed to be executing, what about keeping a low profile?

       He had a bad feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, it's been a while! This chapter was a bit tough for me to write, only because I'm so excited to talk about what is coming after. I wanted to make sure that the pacing and events in the story had a strong foundation and reasonable pacing. I realized that I needed to back-pedal just a bit just to tie up some lose ends. Establishing more of Goku and Raditz's dynamic is very important, especially since Vegeta is going to finally meet up with them both next chapter. Things are really going to be moving after this, we are rapidly approaching one of the first pivotal moments of action, I can't wait to share it with you guys. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the outpouring of support and love for this fic. I'm overwhelmed at how positive the reception has been. Thank for you for reading and let me know what you think!


	7. Boiling Point (different altitudes may yield varied results)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ghost frequencies  
> the curse of silence  
> contact

_“Magis_ _Epsilon 773 KHz.”_

_“Unsecured.”_

_“Cretius Zeta 339 MHz.”_

_“No good, that line was used five cycles ago.”_

_“_ C _āssus Delta 639 KHz.”_

_“A known PTO operative line. Are you fucking mad?”_

_“Seven hells, Prince Vegeta, can’t we take a break from this already?” Raditz huffed, tossing his tablet carelessly to the table, scattering the piles of papers and pens that were strewn about haphazardly on the surface. He ruffled his hands through his hair, the unruly mane fluffing out to even more epic proportions in his frustration._

_“Take a break? You do realize how ‘taking a break’ could compromise us, do you not?” Vegeta narrowed his eyes, gently placing his tablet down next to his own neat stack of documents and file folders. He steepled his gloved fingers in front of his mouth while staring Raditz down._

**_“_ ** _I’m tired of this. We spend so much time finding these secured frequencies only to abandon them days later. No disrespect, but it makes no sense to me. Feels like a waste of time.” Raditz crossed his arms, kicking back in his seat so that he was balancing on just the back legs of his chair._

_“Stop acting like a child, Raditz. You know damn well why we gotta do this.” Nappa interjected gruffly as he leaned against the counter of the small kitchenette housed in their modest quarters. He took a long pull from a steaming mug, grimacing as he swallowed the unctuous contents of mysterious liquid contained within._

_“I know it’s difficult for even the simplest of concepts to penetrate that thick skull of yours, but you must understand the importance of our discretion by now. We cannot leave any semblance of a trail on our communications.” Vegeta cut his hand through the air in a gesture of finality._

_“We’ve hoarded so much money and tons of supplies at this point, why can’t we just blow a hole in this place and escape already?” Raditz murmured, not meeting his prince’s eye._

_“Do you doubt my leadership, Raditz?” Vegeta stated, his voice low, menacing. His posture was coiled, dangerous, the tip of his tail flicking in annoyance._

_Raditz froze, the front of his chair touching back to the ground, all of the bravado and casual indifference fleeing from him. He hesitated, staring at the tablet a moment before picking it up and scrolling through the list again._

_“Decimus Tau 427 Mz.” Raditz stated, his voice monotonous, still avoiding eye contact with Vegeta. Off to the side, Nappa scoffed, setting his mug down with a heavy clunk against the counter._

_Vegeta continued to stare at Raditz, the heat of his glare making the larger warrior slump down in his seat a bit. Finally, the prince cross-referenced the line on his own tablet. It seemed to be an abandoned frequency, last utilized by the PTO several decades ago. Promising, for sure._

_“Very good. Let’s give this one a try.” Vegeta input a few commands into his tablet, a backdoor code specifically designed to go undetected in the network connected to the PTO’s scouter tech. The three saiyans were silent, waiting for their scouters to key into the frequency. Suddenly, a trilling, ear-piercing noise exploded through the speakers of the scouters, high-pitched and volatile, making all three of them flinch._

_“What in the hells is this?” Nappa swore, ripping his scouter from his ear in a panic. Raditz clawed at his scouter, but was unable to remove it, oaths of pain pouring from his mouth at an alarming rate._

_Only Vegeta sat stock still, eyes closed, hands covering his ears he concentrated on the noise. There was… something else, something under the earsplitting tone. Static chords, crackling, a computerized voice cutting through, an undercurrent in the blaring, shrill noise._

_A word in their native tongue. Coordinates. A name._

_Compromised_

_RA 20h 40m 38s | Dec -18° 19′ 38″_

_Kakarot_

_The Prince listened to the message cycle several times before he removed the scouter from his ear, a look of astonishment gracing his usually carefully schooled features. The sharp trilling could still be heard, echoing from the small speaker that now rested on the table. With a single strike, he cut the connection, a blessed silence pervading the room. Raditz started at him, tears in his eyes from the sharpness of the sound still rocketing in his ears._

_“What the fuck was that?” Nappa cursed._

_“An S.O.S.” Vegeta stated simply, still trying to process what he had just heard. He quickly jotted down the message, hand shaking. He slid the paper across the table to Raditz before folding his hands in his lap, silently daring either of his subordinates to call out visibly how rattled he was._

_Raditz read over the note, Nappa leaning over curiously behind him, one hand resting on the maned warrior’s shoulder. The two warriors exchanged shocked glances._

_“That name is so familiar… Your brother?” Nappa queried, tightening his grip on Raditz’s shoulder._

_“ He’s… alive?” Raditz whispered softly, reflexively gripping the paper. Both warriors looked to Vegeta. A slight grin tugged at the corner of the prince’s lips._

_“Well. I simply cannot seem to escape you third-class brats, now can I?”_

 

\-----

 

Space was quite.

For something so vast and brimming with life, the fathomless scope and scale of it all made the universe feel so damn empty. Distant stars blinked in and out of sight, disappearing when viewed directly, only to creep back into existence in the peripherals of vision. Planets teeming with life hung silent, caught in the dark tapestry of stars. Hushed, desolate isolation was the norm.

As the little blue planet crested into view, Vegeta let out a small sigh of relief, a pressure in his chest tapering off ever so slightly. He didn’t mind the quiet. Silences were often welcomed, gave him time to think. As it was right now, he had too much to think on. A day and a half’s travel had given him far too much time run through the gambit of worst-case scenarios. Of capture. Of battles scaled terribly against his favor. Of total annihilation.

Truly, a bit of noise would be a welcomed relief.

A grimace crossed Vegeta’s face as a flash of pain seared through his abdomen. Discomfort and longing raked through him as his stomach ached with hunger. His hand came to rest over his core, fingertips smudging through the grime-smeared surface of his armor. He applied pressure, wincing and willing himself to ignore the ache. The last of his rations had been consumed well before he and Nappa had fled from that acid riddled, toxic planet, and his accelerated metabolism sure as hell wasn’t about to let him forget it. The hunger proved to anchor him in reality, a vicious pang that brought him slamming back into his body every time that rabbit hole of anxiety and doubt dragged him in a bit too deep. Perhaps not the most welcomed distraction, but it was an effective one nonetheless.

Shaking his head vigorously, Vegeta refocused, keying in a few commands and coordinates in anticipation of landing planet-side. As a precaution, the tracker on Raditz’s ship had been scrambled before he split off from the group, so there was no relying on that as a beacon anymore. Landing haphazardly on Earth was by no means end of the world; it would just be easier to land in reasonably close proximity to the other saiyans. The less time spent searching them out, the better. And besides, Raditz had been right, this planet sure did have a hell of a lot of water, and Vegeta was not looking forward to having a swim.

Luckily, there was still Kakarot’s pod to use as reference point. The honing beacon that had been trilling nonstop for the past week from the old ship had finally been disabled, but Vegeta had the foresight to grab the last known coordinates from the beacon as a precaution. Probably one of the more insightful things he’d done in the past few days. The ship’s computer accepted the commands, and began running though routine protocols in preparation of entering the Earth’s atmosphere, soft hums and trills radiating through the ship as it course-corrected.

Vegeta leaned back, intertwining his hands behind his head as he stared out of the curved window at the strange, blue planet. Things were getting a little convoluted. The prince prided himself in his ability to develop and execute missions and plans with meticulous, excruciating detail. There was no room for error when you were under constant scrutiny, and he had a reputation to uphold.

One must never allow one’s enemies to see them waiver, after all.

In his mind, there was no way any of his plans could be flawed. Sure, things were off to a bit of a rocky start, but there was no reason why he couldn’t simply regroup with the others and put things right back on track. Put all of these little pieces right into their neat little places. Right now, the most important thing was to act before Zarbon could catch wise to his movements.

Vegeta exhaled slowly, nostrils flaring, eyes closed. The corner of his left eye had a hell of a twitch, pinching and pulling the skin over his temple in annoying, erratic bursts. He squirmed in his seat as he felt his pod succumb to an atmospheric pull. He swallowed, trying to alleviate the dulling blockage in his ears from the changes in cabin pressure.

There was no going back now.

Unfortunately, one small problem still remained.

There was _no plan._

The ship rocked and shook, the lighting in the cabin dulled and darkened. Vegeta braced himself.

Having ‘no plan’ to speak of was perhaps a bit dramatic, but this was certainly not the plan he had envisioned, what with all of the mouthing off to Frieza’s elite and running off on a wild hunt to chase down a newly discovered saiyan survivor.

Of course there _had_ been years of careful, scrupulous planning. Nicking supplies, derailing small-scale criminal operations in order to steal ships, creating cleverly disguised shell networks in order to siphon away money and information. Vegeta was no fool. He knew he needed to lay down the groundwork for a successful rebellion, but rebellions took time, money, and manpower to be successful. There were very few saiyan sympathizers left out there in the universe, but he quickly discovered that most anything could be accomplished with the right amount of money. And if he focused his efforts on stealing from those who were already dealing in illegal business within the Empire, who was going to stop him?

The Planet Trade Organization’s reach was vast and near absolute, but shady dealings occurred internally all of the time, and it was difficult to keep criminal activity totally at bay. Vegeta came to recognize this right after the veil of safety was ripped away from him when his planet was destroyed. Frieza did his best to keep the now destitute prince in line, to keep him busy on missions, too exhausted and disheartened to do much else. However, Frieza hadn’t factored in Vegeta’s intelligence, something that the youth quickly exploited. He kept his head down, did the missions, and generally obeyed Frieza’s absurd commands.

When the spotlight on him diminished, he and his squadron started to move. Contracted mercenary work, couriering illegal tech, fighting in illicit, underground rings. Anything that would earn them quick cash without taking them too far away to fulfill missives and obligations.

It was rough, shitty work.

As luck would have it for Vegeta, his small stature and exotic heritage disarmed many of his opponents, slowly and surely earning him the money he needed, as well as the powerful repute he desired. It was a balancing act, maintaining several reputations, making sure that he and his subordinates caused just enough trouble within the PTO, acted just foolish enough to beguile those that were meant to spy on them. He meant to keep the whole army thinking that they were culture-less killing machines; just a bunch of ill-bred monkeys. All the while, he kept certain palms greased in order to keep PTO patrol routes away from a certain asteroid belt that housed years and years of stolen supplies.

But that particular asteroid belt was galaxies away from the Milky Way. Which was where he was now. Basically flying blind. No food. No extra fuel. And a piss-poor chance of navigating back to his hidden, hard earned base of operations while avoiding PTO ships.

A single gamble brought all of that careful planning grinding to a halt.

And he had nobody to blame for it but himself.

Vegeta’s eyes popped open, flooded with the soft, blue hue of the planet’s stratosphere. Down below, landmasses began to focus into more detail, mapping out colorful swathes of cityscapes, the uniform patchwork of farmlands, the sapphire glow of deep, rich oceans. Clouds scattered idly around, obscuring the scene for quick flashes, enveloping the ship in dense, white fog before breaking through to more color below.

Vegeta ran a gloved hand over his face, stifling a deep huff of frustration.

There had been a plan, a careful plan. A plan to wait. To bide their time, to wait for a moment that felt right, to hoard supplies and information and to find a weakness in Frieza’s monstrous empire.

A plan to _survive_.

But simply surviving was no longer enough.

Now they were scattered to the winds, recklessly trying to circumvent Zarbon’s patrols, strained and hungry, with the bare-ass skeleton of a semblance of a plan.

But he had to own it.

He threw his shoulder’s back, steeling his resolve. He was here now, wasn’t he? He was the Prince of Saiyans, a pillar of strength, infallible and absolute. There was no way he could ever, _ever_ allow his subjects to see him waiver. As far as they were concerned, things were all going exactly, perfectly to plan.

There could never be any suggestion to the contrary.

A strange thrill overtook him as his ship careened closer and closer to the planet’s surface. What would Kakarot be like? Was he strong? Would he truly be worth all of this trouble? It would be interesting to see how the youngest of Bardock’s kin would measure up. Bardock himself had been immensely strong, his rank impressive, despite his given caste at birth. Certainly, Bardock had sent his youngest off under the guise of him being a weakling.   But he had managed to survive this long on his own, that must count for something. At the very least, if Raditz’s strength was a preview of what to expect, then they had gained a reasonably worthy ally.

Oh right. _Raditz._

Vegeta bristled at the thought of his foolish subordinate, his fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs in frustration. Raditz would need to be dealt with. He was, after all, the catalyst behind this whole debacle. If he thought for a moment that finding Kakarot had given him a pass in all of this, that clown had another thing coming.

The ship shuddered, calling Vegeta from his thoughts as a trilling sound alerted him to the impending landing. The pod streaked through a line of mountains, descending fiercely into the tree-lined valley below.

There was no graceful way to land. Planet Trade Organization pods were deployed for one reason and one reason alone; to bring forth the destruction. There was no need for gentle, subtle landings. Vegeta’s ship hit hard, the impact creating a sizable crater in the soft earth. Birds took flight, animals ran in a panic, the earth shook and shattered.

The cabin fell silent, darkened save for only the soft light of dawn filtering through the window. The ringing of his ears was the only noise to be found as the ship’s landing protocols flashed across the console panels, indicating all systems were at normal functionality. Finally, the cabin de-pressurized, the door to the pod unlocked, hydraulics hissing as the hinges pistoned into place.

The Saiyan Prince stretched as he emerged into the settling dirt and dust, grateful to uncoil his body after spending so long crammed into the small ship. He took in a deep breath of the Earth’s clean, crisp air before launching himself up, flying swiftly from the crater, hovering at a great height to take in his surroundings. His scouter beeped, information scrolling and flashing across the screen in rapid succession. Nothing of note power wise was in the general area.

Beneath him, a loud pop! sounded, accompanied by a plume of smoke, dark and acrid, rising from the spot where his pod had come to rest. Vegeta’s head snapped towards the noise, and he quickly descended to investigate.

“What the…? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Vegeta exclaimed as he landed. The cockpit of his pod was on fire, the right-facing side wall completely blown out. He swore.

Was he under attack?

A low, feral growl sounded in the prince’s throat, his posture hunched and guarded, his tail furling tightly around his waist. Vegeta’s head quested around, his senses straining, trying to discern the threat. Nothing on his scouter indicated an attack, no spike at a ki burst, no sign of anyone or anything in close proximity.

He looked back to the ship, inching as closely as he dared to the flames. It looked like the fuel tank had burst, the alloy on the side of he pod folded outwards like some strange, metallic flower. No sign of external tampering, none of the acrid smell and electric energy of the aftermath of a ki blast. His fingers trailed along the scuffed metal, hands shaking with fury.

Just plain bad luck.

Vegeta shook his head, cursing the unstable nature of the PTO’s grunt tech. This wasn’t sabotage, it was an unfortunate malfunction that occurred in some of the older model pods. He was fortunate that it malfunctioned after the landing, and not while in the cold, quiet depths of space. A small consolation.

Great.

 _Just_ _fucking perfect._

Now he was hungry, irritated, _and_ stranded. What a beautiful combination.

Vegeta slammed his fist against the wall of the pod, causing a deep dent in the already battered exterior.   A side-panel broke off at the impact and flew into the distance. With his ride thoroughly disabled, Vegeta would have to coerce Raditz and Kakarot into sharing a single pod. Or worse, if they had been unable to salvage Kakarot’s old pod, the three of them would have to share. An impossibility. Someone would have to be left behind.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

He took a deep breath and flew out from the crater once more, scouring the countryside through his scouter for a familiar power signature. It didn’t take long for him to find two sizable levels, one he pinpointed immediately as Raditz’s. Without a moment to waste, Vegeta sped off towards the source.

 

\-----

 

            Tensions were high. The sound of his own heartbeat echoed heavily in his ears, breathing rapid, sweat pouring down his back. Goku moved in time, the flow of battle moving him steadily on, his vision tunneling to one, direct point. He smiled, battle lust taking hold, stepping back once, twice, leaning into Raditz’s punches and kicks, taking the barrage of hits in stride, countering, pushing back, landing one hit, another. Bending backwards, rolling forewords, grappling. Blood and bruises, muscles aching and straining, cries of exertion, of victory.   A brutal dance. He felt incredible.

Somehow stronger than before.

Much to his delight, he’d finally, finally gotten Raditz to spar with him. His big brother seemed reluctant at first; perhaps he thought that it would be too easy for him given their last exchange. But after a few days of careful planning, of gently inviting him for morning stretches and small routines, Raditz finally broke and agreed to another match.

Goku laughed, shaking out his shoulders, bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands up and at the ready, blood trailing from a small cut on his forehead. He was proud of the progress he’d made in such a short time since last fighting his brother. He felt like a new man after that horrid beat down, power seemed to flow more freely. Definitely stronger. Now he knew a little of what to expect. And Raditz was clearly enjoying the newfound challenge, albeit a bit surprised at the rapid change.

A slight tremor permeated through the ground, a small, shuddering sigh that was near imperceptible to the common observer. Goku’s head swung around, his eyes narrowing as he looked sharply into the distance, his hands half raised in a defensive posture.

A staggering chill rippled down his spine.  

His head snapped back a moment later, and he let out a noise of alarm as a massive fist connected with his jaw, a loud crack resonating through his skull, sending him reeling to the ground. A series of groans could be heard from the small audience of friends and family that had gathered to watch them.

“Cheap shot!” Yamcha called out. Puar gasped and whapped their tail across his face to get him to hush up.

“Ha! Where were you looking, Kakarot?” Raditz loomed above his brother, grinning despite his labored breathing. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his typically unruly locks smoothed back into a serviceable ponytail for the spar. He shook out his hand, wrapped knuckles stinging a bit from the impact with Kakarot’s hard head. His other hand fell on his hip, sucking air condescendingly through his teeth and shaking his head. “You should know better than to take your eyes off of me.”

Goku hopped to his feet, first dusting off his backside and then rubbing his aching jaw idly with his hand. He’d felt something crazy. A small quaking in the earth. A sudden, immense power. Oppressive. Titanic.

“Get em, Daddy!” Gohan called out from the sidelines, wiggling and bouncing with excitement Bulma’s lap. The young woman placed a soothing hand on the toddler’s shoulder, but called out her own encouragements in turn.

“Come on, Kakarot. You were the one who wanted to fight me, don’t tell me you’ve gotten cold feet.” Raditz laughed and cracked his knuckles, amped up from their spar. It had been several days since he’d fought with Kakarot the first time, and he hadn’t realized just how badly he needed the release of battle. All of that time spent hunched over working on the ship had really put a strain on him. He hopped lightly from foot to foot, keeping the blood pumping.

“No, it’s not that at all! We’re not done, I’m totally gonna kick your ass. I just… I felt something weird...” Goku trailed off, staring off in the direction of the disturbance, his hand idling by his cheek. What the hell was going on?  The hair on the back of his neck raised in warning.

The smattering of hollering and shouts of encouragement from the small group on the sidelines tapered off to confused whispers. Tien and Krillin jumped to their feet, staring off to where Goku was looking, their postures coiled and tense.

Raditz’s grin wavered, unsettled by the sudden silence and the fall in his brother’s usually cheery demeanor. He hadn’t quite picked up on the nuances of sensing ki at a far range yet, but he took the hint from the earthlings that something was well and truly wrong. With a swift motion, he adjusted the settings of his scouter, amplifying the range. His eyes blew out wide, and he swore a string of oaths in his native language before turning heel and scrambling towards the house.

“Huh? Raditz, where are you going?” Goku called out, genuinely confused at his brother’s sudden panic.

“It’s Prince Vegeta! <Shit shit shit>, If I’m not in uniform, he’s gonna kill me!” Raditz called over his shoulder, stopping comically short to narrowly avoid careening into Chi-Chi, who was coming out of the house with a tray of drinks. She let out a cry of surprise as Raditz quickly side-stepped around her and disappeared inside. She looked back after him quizzically before heading out to her friends.

“What’s got him acting so crazy?” Chi-Chi huffed, positively ruffled from the near-collision with her giant of a brother-in-law.

“I think his space Prince buddy is finally on the way.” Bulma quipped, rising to her feet with Gohan in her arms. The toddler’s tail flicked back and forth in an anxious rhythm as he reached out for his mother.

“Oh good! That means he’ll be leaving us. What a happy occasion. I know Goku-sa will be sad to see his brother go, but I, for one, am thrilled. This whole ordeal had been quite enough excitement to last a lifetime. It’ll be nice to get back to things as they were.” Chi-Chi placed the tray down before taking her son from Bulma. The dark-haired woman glanced over to her husband, who was still fixated on staring into the distance. A deep frown colored her features as she soothed her son.

Bulma looked quizzically at Chi-Chi. Did she not know that Goku was leaving, as well? Bulma just nodded, not quite knowing how to break the news to her friend, positively furious at Goku for not having told his wife of his plans.

“Goku, this power level is insane.” Krillin commented as he and the other ragtag group of earth warriors joined their old friend. “Are you sure this guy is gonna be friendly?”

“Geeze, Krillin, I think Raditz made it clear that this guy is anything but friendly.” Goku chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “But if we already made a deal, there’s not need for a fight, right? Although it’d be a really fun fight…”

“You’re insane. I know you’re strong, Goku. Hell, you’re definitely the strongest guy on Planet Earth. But this is some next level stuff. He’s still pretty far off, but it just feels like… heavy, you know? Like his power is squeezing my lungs flat.” Krillin placed a hand over his own chest to emphasize his point. Goku nodded in agreement. The group braced themselves, the air about them overwrought with anticipation.

Small, frantic crashes sounded from inside the house, followed by another swear before Raditz reappeared. Everyone swiveled to see the saiyan warrior visibly panicked.

“Hey uh, listen up…” Raditz huffed, bent over and leaning on the doorframe as he pulled on his boots, all trace of the earthly vestments he’d been wearing moments before gone. “You lot ought to get out of here. I don’t think Prince Vegeta will be too thrilled to deal with you.”

“Deal with us? He’s invading –our- planet! His royal highness is just going to have to suffer through!” Bulma mocked, an air of annoyance ringing clear in her tone.

“I’m not leaving my own home just because some snot-nosed Prince decided to come calling.” Chi-Chi affirmed, sniffing in disdain at the thought. Bulma nodded vehemently next to her, crossing her arms in defiance.

Raditz adjusted his gauntlets before bringing a hand to his forehead, feeling an ache of irritation throbbing behind his eyes. “Fine, okay. Just. Just do me a favor and don’t speak to him unless he addresses you. He’s a difficult man, and this is already such a strange situation. Believe me, you won’t be doing yourself any favors by pissing him off.” With a dismissive wave of the hand, Raditz jogged forward to join his brother and company.

“That goes for all of you, as well. Just be quiet. You are lucky that Kakarot and I struck a deal right before you came along, otherwise I’d of killed you all on the spot for being so annoying.” He mimicked slicing his own throat with his thumb in order to emphasize his point, and was met with a bunch of eye rolls and sarcastic groans. Raditz’s tail flared out in irritation.

“Calm down, Raditz. It’s gonna be fine! This guy can’t really be that scary, can he?” Goku chided, jovially slapping Raditz’s armored shoulder a few times before his brother really lost his cool.

“Yeah, sure. Not scary at all. This is going to go so well.” Radtiz mumbled sarcastically, pulling the tie out of his hair and shaking his mane free.   He huffed a few times, his eyes raking frantically over the group of earthlings, not quite sure what to do about the whole scene. One wrong comment from any one from any single one of them and Vegeta would lose his shit. It wasn’t like Raditz _liked_ them or anything. He just didn’t want to have to clean up any messes.

Yeah.

That was totally the reason.

Finally, he grabbed his brother’s wrist and dragged him across the yard, well away from the house and the group, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to make the earthlings budge until they truly were under threat. Goku waved a quick gesture of reassurance back at his friends, keeping them begrudgingly in place.

“Behave yourself. Be respectful. Make sure you bow, and most importantly, let me do the talking. Dammit, I really wish we had armor for you instead of those ridiculous Earth rags.” Raditz’s voice was terse and low as he led Goku further and further away. It would incense Vegeta to see proud, saiyan warriors mixed in with a throng of weaklings.

“Trust me a bit, will ya? And why do I gotta bow, I don’t even know the guy.” Goku finally tore his wrist from Raditz’s grip, frowning at him and crossing his arms, his bottom lip jutting out in a defiant pout.

“Because… Just, because! That’s just what you do! Do you want to piss him off right away or something?” Raditz sputtered, incredulous at his brother’s troublesome attitude.

“I just think you’re taking things a bit too seriously. Why make such a big show if he’s only the prince of a couple of people?” Goku sniffed, his posture going slack in exasperation.

“Kakarot, don’t be an ass! You struggle to keep up with me and I’m considered the weakling of my squadron. Prince Vegeta will kill you without hesitation, and certainly without a struggle if you keep this up.” Raditz clamped a hand on Goku’s shoulder, heavy and oppressive.

“Hm. Doesn’t sound like the kind of guy I wanna listen to if he’s so reckless with the lives of others.” Goku wrinkled his nose. Raditz had been so hesitant to really explain anything substantial about Vegeta past the fact that he had a tendency to be stubborn and hot-headed. This small, frantic exchange had already given him more insight, and he was liking the idea of the Prince less and less by the moment.

Just as Raditz was about to give a searing retort, a figure crested over the tree line, rushing at them with incredible speed.

“Get down, you idiot.” Raditz hissed, kicking out the back of Goku’s knee, forcing him down.   The young man cried out sharply and crumpled down to one knee just as the figure came to rest a few feet before them.

Despite the cracked breastplate, the dried blood on his face, the muck and grime smeared over what was once meticulously manicured armor, Prince Vegeta cut an imposing and regal figure. He landed, barely, the tips of his toes touching the ground, hovering in place with arms crossed as he took in the scene before him. He quirked a brow as he glanced from Raditz, who looked to be in good shape, if not a little ruffled, to the kneeling, orange clad-figure beside him. Vegeta could only see the top of his head, and even without the scouter reading he could discern the man’s unmistakable saiyan heritage.

“<Prince Vegeta!>” Raditz thumped a closed fist over his heart, striking twice and falling to one knee in deference. “<I’m thrilled that you’ve arrived safely! I was shocked to hear that you were coming out this way. Where’s Nappa?>” He looked around expectantly, his expression carefully neutral despite the desire to grin. To see the prince was such an immense relief! He looked battered and worn, but wholly intact.

“<Do not think you can speak so casually to me, Raditz.  You are not escaping punishment. I know all about your antics with Zarbon. Your little stunt has left us completely compromised.>” Vegeta stated, his words laced with venom despite the calm, even tone he maintained. Raditz visibly recoiled at the reprimand.  ”<Thanks to you, Nappa and I had to separate and flee from our missions. We can no longer hold up the façade of goodwill with Frieza’s generals.>”

“<It was meant to be a joke…>” Raditz mumbled.

“<You fail even at being a jester, despite resembling one. The humor did not land with Zarbon as expected, and you will answer for your transgressions when all of this is through.>” Vegeta pointed an accusatory finger at the larger warrior. Raditz’s mouth drew into a tight line, and he merely responded with a small, curt nod.

Tired of just staring at a pair of dusty boots, Goku chanced raising his head. His brow quirked up in surprise. The prince was not what he expected. But really, what was he to expect? The only other saiyan he’d ever met before was Raditz, and he was pretty blasé when it came to describing Vegeta, often going so far as only to comment on the prince’s immense strength, as if that were his only defining characteristic.   So certainly, with so little to go on, Goku thought the prince would be similar to Raditz. Big, hairy, loud… But Vegeta seemed to be anything but that. He spoke with measured calm, his voice clear and commanding, the native saiyan language sounding almost musical on his tongue. A little worse for wear, for sure, it seemed as though he had just fought a battle or two on the way to Earth. But that didn’t detract from the power, the _importance_ that radiated off of him. Despite the overwhelming power that roiled off of the royal saiyan, his was so, well, he was small! Goku furrowed his brow, perplexed at this revelation.

Vegeta remained silent for a time, allowing Raditz to absorb the true depth of his displeasure before shifting attention to more pressing matters. “<This is Kakarot, I take it? He’d the spitting image of your father.>”  He tilted his head, struck by the resemblance.

“<Yeah, it’s uncanny. He’s stubborn like Bardock, as well.>” Raditz glanced up, a smirk tugging the side of his mouth as he caught Vegeta’s eye.

 **"** <A family trait, to be certain. Stand, Kakarot. Let me get a look at you.>” Vegeta narrowed his eyes, affronted at the way Kakarot’s eyes continuously raked over him. When the earth saiyan didn’t respond, Vegeta planted both of his feet on the ground, stance wide and commanding.

“<What’s wrong, are you so shocked by my presence that you cannot move? Stand, you fool.>” Vegeta motioned sharply for Kakarot to rise, which only made the other man stare back at him in confusion.

Raditz cleared his throat and mumbled something quietly to Kakarot, who’s eyes lit up; a dawning of comprehension. The orange-clad warrior sprung to his feet, dusting off his pants and adjusting at his waistband, a goofy grin on his face.

“<He doesn’t speak our language?>” Vegeta questioned. He could feel something heavy forming in the pit of his stomach. Anger, resentment.

“<He… suffered an injury. He has no memory of us. But the native language is akin to Galactic Standard. We’ve managed decently so far.>” Raditz rose, as well, unable to meet Vegeta’s eyes. The prince’s hands balled tightly into fists.

Goku looked back forth between the two, thoroughly perplexed at the exchange, and quite unable to read the overall vibe. “Hey Vegeta! My name’s Son Goku.  You are so strong! You’ve gotta spar with me, this is insane, I’ve never felt power like yours!” Goku stepped forward, offering out a hand in greeting. Vegeta sneered in response, slapping the proffered hand away sharply.

Raditz made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a yelp. If his mouth could open any wider, his jaw would have hit the ground.

“This… runt is Kakarot? How disappointing.” Vegeta jeered, slipping seamlessly into Galactic Standard. He stared daggers at Kakarot for good measure, just incase the idiot still couldn’t comprehend his meaning. The gall this man had!

“Runt? Hey now, that’s not fair. I’m a heck of a lot bigger than you are!” Goku exclaimed, puffing out his chest for emphasis. Where did this guy get off being so rude from the get go?

“I wasn’t referring to stature, you dolt.  I was speaking of your pathetic power level.” Vegeta stated dismissively, re-checking Kakarot’s power level through the lens of his scouter. Truly disappointing. “I suppose it’s to be expected of an abandoned third-class mongrel like you. You aren’t even fully in-tact anymore, what happened to your tail?” Vegeta bristled, realizing the state of Kakarot. He looked positively ridiculous, standing there in those loud earthling garments, mouth hanging open like some dullard.

“It was cut off ages ago and hasn’t grown back yet, what’s the big deal? I’m so confused, why are you being so hostile? I thought you guys wanted my help to beat this Frieza guy.” Goku raised his hands in mock supplication, his head whipping back towards Raditz.

Raditz covered his face with one hand, sighing, at a loss of how to respond. This was not going well.

“Defeat Frieza? You?” Vegeta balked, a short bark of laughter escaping him. “He’d wipe the floor with you and barely lift a finger in doing so.”

“Mmm, yeah, Raditz has said as much, but that doesn’t change the fact that you guys showed up here to ask for my help. And besides, strength is gained through necessity, you’d be surprised at what someone can do when their back’s caught against the wall. I’ve been the victor against a fair share of overwhelming odds.” Goku cracked his knuckles, his blood pumping with excitement. He wanted to test out Vegeta so badly! His attitude was really rubbing him the wrong way, but he couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through him at the thought of doing toe to toe with him.

“Oh, this is rich. Your confidence is certainly that of a Saiyan’s, I’ll give you that. But make no mistake, we did not come here to ask you for help. You let off a distress beacon.” Vegeta folded his arms. His right eye twitched, his tail unfurled, slashing dangerously through the air.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You mean my ship? I didn’t even know it existed until a few days ago! Raditz said it looked like an earthquake made it turn on again or something.” Goku looked to his brother for help, well and truly lost.

“Prince Vegeta, its true. And I did ask him to help, he’s agreed to come with us already.” Raditz interceded, trying to quell the building conflict between the two. The prince was far more snappy than usual from travel and stress.

“Agreed, did he? As if he ever had a choice in the matter, had he refused you know damn well you were supposed to bring him along, anyway. Or were you too busy making friends with Kakarot and that gaggle of pathetic earthlings over there to remember what your mission was, Raditz? Have you forgotten everyone else is expendable?” Vegeta fired off, tired of this verbal volleying. There was no time to dance around like fools, and he did not owe them the courtesy of playing nice.

“Dammit, that’s really harsh, Vegeta! I just wanna help you guys, there’s no need to be such an asshole-” Goku retorted, his tone thoroughly sour from Vegeta’s terrible attitude.

“Why don’t we let this rest for now? You must be tired and hungry after your trip, why don’t we-“ Raditz ventured at the same time as Goku, but he was cut short as Vegeta volleyed a ki blast at the two brothers, making them both quickly jump back to avoid the impact.

“You! You will never speak to me that way again if you wish to keep your life!” Vegeta yelled, volleying another blast at Goku, who once again dodged to the side. “And you! Do not seek to placate me!” Vegeta snapped at Raditz, hurling another blast, blinded by his fury. Enough was enough, his subordinates were clearly not taking things seriously enough. “We risked everything to come here for a clipped, halfwit weakling! Clearly, you’ve neglected to inform Kakarot of his station and purpose, just as you seem to have forgotten your own. Allow me to rectify that misunderstanding.”

“Vegeta, don’t do this right now. Come on, you’ve been going nonstop for days, you’ve got to eat and rest, we can look at this with a clear head later.” Raditz pleaded, trying to keep his posture as non-threatening as possible while keeping his guard up. He hoped that Kakarot would have the same sense to follow suit.

Unfortunately, Goku had no such sense.

Something inside of him _snapped._ Vegeta was not just some idle, strong opponent to have a tousle or two with. He was a real threat, a grandiose bastard, a borderline megalomaniac. Goku had seen his type before, they type that just take and take from people, and expect no resistance whatsoever. Whatever his reasons, and whatever battles he was fighting for the sake of his fractured people, Goku could not excuse the prince’s complete disregard for the lives and wellbeing of others. These saiyans were just going to take whatever they wanted, regardless of what anyone thought or felt.

_And I’m one of them…_

Goku cried out in wordless anger. Agreeing to help was a mistake. There was no point in fighting on behalf of the truly wicked.

Raditz watched in horror as his brother launched himself at Vegeta, all pretenses of friendliness gone. The two saiyans collided, all bluster and bravado, clashing in an explosion of frenzied, furious shouts, of fists and teeth and reckless ferocity.

And dammit, they were both _grinning_!

Raditz took to the air, flying back towards the earthlings, shouting at them to clear out, and after a moments hesitation, they frantically complied.

Satisfied, Raditz turned to monitor the battle, his blood boiling at the sight. No one was safe around a true battle between saiyans, but he couldn’t look away. He knew better than to try and get in the middle of things. There was no way this could end well, not with the prince so tired and reckless, and his brother blindly infuriated. The prince’s power was unmistakable, but his movements were strained and clunky, exhaustion and hunger clearly impacting his abilities. Kakarot’s technique was admirable, but he struggled in the face of such true, raw strength. Despite this, neither man was anywhere close to conceding.  Raditz looked on in a panic, frantically trying to figure out how to put a stop to this useless battle.

At this rate, one of them was going end up dead.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW okay that was a long chapter, haha. I couldn't find a good place to splice it into two, so a supersize chapter will just have to do.
> 
> I hope that the shifts between flashbacks, thoughts, and the Saiyan language are clear and easy to read. If not, I can always give a little guide or restructure things a bit. 
> 
> But yes! Yes, Goku and Vegeta have finally met! And uhhh it's not a great first impression, haha. It only took 7 chapters, but here we are! I'm so excited, ball is really rolling now, and all hell is about to break loose. Thank you guys so much for sticking with this so far, the feedback has been amazing! 
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think of everything, feedback is always greatly appreciated! <3
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. this is still unbeta’ed, if anyone is interested in potentially being one for me please hit me up on Twitter! My handle is the same over there as it is here.


	8. Red Lights (in your body language)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> relentless memories  
> proclamations through pain  
> ripples, static.

_“What do you miss the most about home?”_

_Raditz’s quiet voice startled Vegeta, all vestiges of sleep chased away in an instant. He’d been dancing on the edges of consciousness, bone tired. The steady crackling of the fire, the soft breeze, the susurrations of insects, the heady fatigue of the post-Oozaru state; the perfect mix to lull his overactive mind to blissful abandon. A short-lived fantasy._

_The young prince groaned, shifting on the soft pile of pelts they’d gathered from their hunt, his muscles and bones screaming in worn-out protest at the slightest movement. He could see Raditz’s face aglow in the firelight, his eyes distant, cracked armor discarded, knees gathered up to his chest. He looked more like a child than ever in this moment, certainly more so that than the fierce, saiyan savage that the PTO demanded him to be. Well, they were both still technically children, but Vegeta didn’t like to think too hard about that. The prince turned over onto his stomach, head facing away from his companion._

_“There’s not much of a point to taking shifts on watch if one of us doesn’t get some sleep, Raditz.” The young prince chided, his tone softened from exhaustion._

_“I miss the salt springs off of the Chinois Coast, you know, the ones that were all warmed up from the lava under Mt. Ossein? Used to go there after training to heal up. Smelled like bad eggs, but it felt so damn good! And Gine’s meals afterwards! She was the best cook, that’s for sure.” Raditz ruminated, unbothered by Vegeta’s distant, reproachful response. He sighed dreamily._

_“You sound like an old man.” Vegeta rolled onto his side in order to face Raditz. Sleep clearly wasn’t going to happen tonight. “Baths and a home cooked meal? Give me a break. There are plenty of planets with hotsprings, you know. Hells, even the bases are equipped with bathhouses and saunas. That’s a dumb thing to miss.”_

_“Alright, what’s a good thing to miss, then?” Raditz puffed up, his tail flicking recklessly from side to side._

_“Let’s not do this right now. I’m exhausted.” Vegeta sighed irritably._

_"Come one, just one thing. It’s not that hard.”_

_“None of it. I do not miss any of it. It’s gone, and missing it won’t change a damn thing.” Vegeta sat up, coiled and tense, his fatigue rapidly disappearing, adrenaline spiking._

_“You never want to talk about it. Why bother resisting Frieza if you don’t give a damn about what we lost?” Raditz pouted, glaring daggers at the other saiyan._

_The blame, the absolute scorn in Raditz’s tone was not lost on Vegeta. The Saiyan Prince leapt to his feet, dust and dirt kicking up around him in a flurried maelstrom as he strode over to Raditz. Raditz scrambled back, his palms slapping the dirt as he attempted to move away, but Vegeta caught him, gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him up to his feet, speaking so close to his face that their noses were practically touching._

_"You want to know what I miss? Everything. All of it. Including the things I never got to do or see or have. Every storm, every council meeting, every map in Father’s study, every benign, boring thing! And if I talk about it, if I think too much about it, I’ll lose my mind. So keep your memories of hot springs and calm evenings to yourself.” He pushed Raditz away, and the other boy fell to the ground, shocked by Vegeta’s vehemence. Silence took hold, unfolding between them as Vegeta turned on his heel and returned to his makeshift bedding. He spent the rest of the night staring wide-eyed into the darkness, out into the unknown that stretched out beyond their camp._

_Sleep was just another luxury he was to be denied._

_\-----_

     Time slowed. They didn’t know how long they had been fighting, but the flourish of bruises and cuts that they felt blooming over their bodies, the cracked armor and ragged clothing was testament enough to time past, an effigy of battle. It could have been minutes, it could have been days. But that didn’t matter. Not anymore. The only thing that mattered anymore was to keep moving, to continue the macabre dance. Stopping meant losing, and neither of them were ready to yield. Perhaps they never would be.

_Break him._

     Over and over and over, a mantra within his mind, a deep-rooted, horrid avowal. Vegeta snarled, all sharp teeth and vitriol as his fists made contact. He wanted to destroy this man, this low born being who dared be so bold as to engage in combat with him. With the Prince of all Saiyans! Kakarot was a bigger fool than he ever could of imagined, and he relished in the thought of putting this stupid man right in his place.

     His footing slid, loose gravel and dirt and utter exhaustion his mortal enemies as he over-extended his reach. Kakarot took the opportunity to duck out of the range of Vegeta’s attack, smoothly countering, his elbow striking up under Vegeta’s jaw with a sickening crack. Teeth gnashed together, bones fractured. The prince saw stars, his vision dancing with frantic white light, his ears struck with a piercing tone. A feral grin stretched across the earth warrior’s face at the impact.

     Kakarot was a sharp, capable warrior. A quick study in battle, no doubt. Moves that Vegeta employed against the younger man were echoed moments later, and skillfully so. Despite initial impressions, this dullard actually had the makings of a saiyan warrior. But Vegeta knew he was still the stronger one. Despite this knowledge, his body was failing him. Vegeta cursed inwardly, dispelling the shock of the blow from his mind. Small oversights would cost him dearly if he didn’t reel it in. He would not allow Kakarot the time to savor the small victory, shaking his head wildly as he recovered from the hit before launching himself back into the fray.

_Break him!_

     A resounding snap, Kakarot’s eye grew wide with shock. Vegeta’s hand met resistance for a mere moment before the flesh and bone of the other man’s chest yielded beneath his palm. He laughed, feeling Kakarot’s ribs splinter beneath his fingers. An open-palmed strike coupled with a cruel blast of ki sent the orange-clad warrior flying back with great and terrible force.

     All of his rage, all of his resentment filtered into this moment. Kakarot, a vagrant weakling, a nobody, stayed idle on this planet as the rest of them scraped and groveled at Frieza’s feet, as they struggled, humiliated, hunting for an escape. Kakarot, meanwhile, turned a blissfully ignorant eye, built a family, a life.

     Vegeta sneered.

     Vegeta _hated_ him for it.

     A prince by right, a ruler by nature, Vegeta was denied an existence _meant_ for him. He never wanted pity, never wanted to be looked down on. Dignity in the face of oppression. He knew that his promised life was ripped from him, but his pride kept him afloat. They could never take that from him.

     But this worm, this mongrel had escaped it all! Found by a fluke, his existence unknown, uncharted in the maps of their minds for decades, he suddenly became the focus of all of Vegeta’s wrath.

     Vegeta laughed, cold and harsh as he watched the other warrior struggle back to his feet. His vision narrowed, his breathing labored, his body cold despite the heat of the power that flowed through him.

     Fuck, he was _exhausted._

     He needed to end this, but there was still this incandescent rage, this primal need to see the fight through. In a situation so close to spiraling out of control, Vegeta had but one desire, to re-affirm his own place within the universe. And in order to do that, he needed Kakarot to bend, to understand where he belonged. To submit.

     Vegeta needed to see him to break.

     Goku felt broken, but he did not waver.

     His veins boiled from the heat of battle, his body battered, chest seared from the fire of his opponents’ attack. He was fragmented, held together by a thin barrier of sinew and skin. Every fiber of his being was screaming for some sort of relief. But he could not lose, not to him.

     The warrior regained his footing, fumbling up from the dirt, body screeching in protest, breathing haggard. Vegeta hadn’t pursued him; instead, the smaller saiyan stood rooted to the spot, posture haughty and arrogant. Was he _laughing?_ Goku bristled with annoyance as his opponent raised a beckoning hand towards him in challenge. This guy really was too much!

     Vegeta was strong. Insanely strong! He’d never faced anyone as thoroughly violent before, not even in his youth. Sure, he’d been outclassed in tournaments before, but there had always been some weakness, some small tell that Goku could uncover, a hurdle that he would overcome in order to take the opponent down. But with Vegeta, that didn’t seem to matter. Any small advantage that Goku took hold of, the other warrior would retaliate tenfold. There was undeniable skill, an imposing weight behind the saiyan’s moves. The gap between their strengths was definite.

     Goku smirked.

     He _loved_ the thrill of it.

      _No, no!_ He needed to focus, he couldn’t let his excitement cloud what he was fighting for. Vegeta was cruel, ruthless; unhinged. A prince and a beast, all one in the same. He threatened everything Goku had worked so hard to gain. The other man was out for blood. Goku rolled his shoulders, trying to work out some of the fear that nested in tight, twisted knots between his shoulder blades. Losing to him in this moment would mean losing his life. Vegeta would either kill him, or he’d reduce him to nothing and drag him away from his life on Earth. Goku had wanted to help the saiyans, but not like this.

     There were no good options left.

     His eyes flicked briefly over to Raditz, who stood on the sidelines, pallid, sallow, tense. The larger warrior made no move to help either of the fighters, his expression a careful neutral mask over a clear internal struggle. Goku took his brother’s inaction as a sign of good faith, a small rebellion against his own prince. Or maybe he just respected their need to fight this out alone. That had to count for something. Surely, once all of this was over, he’d understand. At this rate, Goku realized, he would have to take back his offer to help. There would be no going off to space, no adventuring through the cosmos this time. He felt bad about breaking a promise to Raditz, but Vegeta was just no good. Goku was no longer willing to go along, no matter how strong this Frieza guy was, no matter how exciting the battles would be.

     The warrior shook his head and spat, his saliva tinged with red, mouth filled with the noxious taste of iron. Not good. Broken bones and internal damage, for certain. Still, he squared off against the smaller man, refusing to back down. Sure, Vegeta was stronger than him. Goku knew he wasn’t the smartest guy around, but even he could sense that much and take it as fact.   However, Vegeta was tired, and tired fighters made sloppy mistakes. He just needed an opening, one solitary moment, and he could change the tide of this battle. The heat, the vigor of battle clutched at his core, suffocating him. Attempting to take focused, calming breaths became a monumental task.

     “Yield, and perhaps I’ll spare your life.” Vegeta taunted, face ruddy from exertion, his expression remaining proud and pompous.

     “Well that’s not very re-assuring, not at all! I’d rather take my chances and see where this fight goes than trust your compassion.” Goku quipped through labored breaths, trying to drag things out as much as he could. If only he could keep Vegeta talking! The rate that he was bleeding, the gravity of his wounds; Goku gleaned that the Saiyan Prince was well on his way to passing out. He just needed to outlast him.

     “Delaying the inevitable, are we? You have no idea who you’re up against, do you?” Vegeta growled, his voice raspy. The way Kakarot talked, the very way he _existed_ bothered him. He was already well on his way to defeat, why wouldn’t he just stand down?

_A damn fool._

     Vegeta’s eyes flicked down as he heard the soft sounds of something falling to the ground beneath him, bemused as thick droplets of his own blood painted a frantic pattern in the dust and dirt. He wiped a gloved hand over his cheek, staining it crimson, a shard of red glass from his broken scouter glinting in the stain. When had Kakarot landed that blow? He couldn’t recall. His brow knit together in puzzlement. There was too much blood spilling to the ground for it to just be coming from that single wound alone. He came to realize the state of himself, his tattered uniform, the bloody gashes on his arms and legs, his cracked, broken armor. Kakarot had done far more damage to him than he initially thought. His arm hung limp at his side, all pins and needles. A faint trace of surprise showed on his face. Vegeta’s body suddenly felt heavy as stone.

     “Oh, I know you pretty well, I think. I’ve fought plenty of guys just like you. All you care about is yourself.” Goku’s eyes narrowed dangerously. The sound of his own heartbeat echoed heavily in his ears, disorienting him. Pain in his chest. A haze of anger. Red. Blinding.  

     “You’ve no idea. You know nothing about me, Kakarot. You talk of selfishness, how are you any different? Hiding here, wrapped up in this pleasant little fantasy you’ve built for yourself? I’ve heard you even have a family. How is that not selfish of you, while your people were obliterated and enslaved?” Vegeta edged closer, screaming at himself internally to hold his form. His vision wavered, Kakarot swimming in and out of focus. Hazy.

     “Woah, wait a minute! I already told you I didn’t know anything about your situation. You can’t blame me for somethin’ I had no part in! Are you always this damn stubborn?” Goku exclaimed, blinking in surprise as his voice broke. His knees buckled, he trembled as exhaustion was took hold, but he refused to go down.

     “It must be so convenient for you. Playing stupid suits the likes of you, the weak must be clever to ensure their survival, after all. I must commend you, this whole ‘lapse in memory’ bit has brought you pretty damn far. But now you have to face reality.” Vegeta’s voice slurred towards the end, much to his own dissatisfaction. He started to build up another blast of ki in the palm of his hand, crackling, unstable, tremulous.

     “You think I’m faking.” Goku remarked, his tone deadpan. He re-adjusted his posture to be more on the defensive, his opponent’s building attack not lost on him. The pain from his cracked ribs was excruciating, sending bolts of white across his sight. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that Vegeta’s words weren’t truly meant for him.

     “I think you are a coward.” Vegeta snapped.

     “Unbelievable.” Goku’s jaw clenched before he sprang towards Vegeta. Vegeta immediately threw up his arm, dispelling the ki attack he’d built up in order to block Goku’s punch.   Their eyes locked, both men fuming, taking in heavy breaths to maintain themselves.  

     “I don’t think you really believe that.” Goku proclaimed, throwing another punch, only to be blocked again, and again, and again.  “I think you’re too afraid to admit that people are allowed to follow their own paths. You can’t control me.”

     A strangled, clipped laugh escaped Vegeta as he batted Goku away, the opposing warrior stumbling back a bit. Both of them buckled slightly before recovering, swaying,

     “Pathetic. You are absolutely pathetic.” The prince gritted out.

     “I feel sorry for you, Vegeta. Something bad happened to you, I get it. But you just aren’t hearing me! Trust me, I was gonna help you out before you came in here all guns blazin’. We don’t have to keep doing this.” Goku declared in exasperation, completely stretched thin. What was he fighting for, again? Why were they even battling? This went beyond petty disagreements, and Goku wasn’t even sure what the point was anymore.

     “You act as though you are doing me a favor. I do not need favors, and I certainly do not need your pity.   You’ll never be on the same level as me!” With the last vestige of his strength, Vegeta leapt into the air, releasing a flurry of ki blasts in Goku’s direction. The orange-clad warrior sprung into action, barely dodging what he could, deflecting some, and, unfortunately, taking the hits when he just couldn’t keep up.

     Just as Goku was fending off the last blast, the light from the ki caused a blind-spot that did not go unnoticed by Vegeta.   The saiyan prince moved quickly to get inside of the other warrior’s defenses, a deft kick sweeping Goku’s legs out from beneath him. Goku fell back. At the same time, a gloved hand gripped into the front of Goku’s hair, biting into his scalp as Vegeta used the momentum of the fall to push the warrior down. As Goku landed, Vegeta slammed the warrior’s head once, twice against the ground, his knee slamming into Goku’s ribs to keep him locked in place during the brutal assault.

     For Goku, for a moment, for an eternity, everything went dark.

\-----

 

     “ _So what happens after?” Goku flicked his wrist, launching the flat, smooth stone across the lake’s surface, watching with unrestrained glee as the little thing sprang and skipped merrily across, bounding and bouncing until the horizon curved and the reflective surface bowed out of view. A good toss._

_“After what?” Raditz shielded his eyes from the glare of the setting sun, sight keenly focused as he skimmed his own stone after his brother’s, smirking with satisfaction as it went just as far before disappearing._

_“You know, when we defeat this Frieza guy, what happens after?” Goku skimmed two more stones in rapid succession, the two objects bounding and dancing in tandem after the ones before. It was just a game of skipping stones, but he couldn’t help but to feel a little competitive over it. He wondered if it was normal to feel this way around siblings._

_"…We’ll be free. We’ll do whatever we want to, I suppose. Haven’t thought about it too hard, to be honest. Too busy worrying about the getting there.” Raditz echoed his brother’s move. More stones. More ripples.   "I barely remember what life was like when everyone was still alive… but what I do remember is good. Maybe we can get some of that back, if Prince Vegeta wants to, that is. There’s so few of us left, but it could be worth trying to rebuild…”_

_“You sound really sad about it all.” Goku remarked,_

_“Sad?” Raditz shot him a heated glare, pausing mid-throw. He was quiet for a bit, his posture slumping ever so slightly. “No. That’s not the case. I don’t have time to be sad about what happened. None of us do.”_

_“Hmm. You guys can always come and live here if you wanna. Not a whole lot happens, but the food is good and I can help you find somewhere to build a house. A big place for Vegeta, too, if that’s what he likes! You can help me out in the fields.” Goku shrugged, idly toeing the dirt. There were no more good, flat stones to skip._

_“You want me to become a farmer.” Raditz half-heartedly tossed a random stone into the water with a loud plop._

_“Nah, nothin’ like that. But if we work out there together, the work will get done twice as fast, then we can spend the rest of the time training!” He grinned, bright and genuine._

_“I don’t know about all that.” Raditz chuckled, punching his brother lightly on the shoulder._

_“It might sound boring after bein’ in space, but at least here things won’t feel so lonely.” Goku brought his hands to rest behind his neck, facing out to watch the sunset, a content smile on his face._

_His brother said nothing. He didn’t have to say anything._

_It was a simple dream._

 

         ----

 

     “Give up, weakling!” Vegeta spat out, eyes crazed, blood and saliva spraying from his mouth as he yelled, dotting the face of the man beneath him.   His grip on Kakarot’s hair tightened as he leaned in closer to the other man’s face. Kakarot’s eyes glazed over, his lids drooping, his attention wandering. How dare he be so wretched?

     “Give up… on what?” Goku said, slow, distant, words cotton and lead in his mouth. He was sinking. Who was talking to him?

     “Just say it. Say that you’ve been beaten so we can be done with this farce.” The prince cried out in frustration, words haggard, shoulders heaving with the strain of each breath. The blaze of anger that propelled Vegeta forward began to sputter and fade. True exhaustion took hold. There was no way Kakarot could win now, and it couldn’t have happened a moment too soon. His shoulders slumped, his hand slack, but still entwined in his opponents hair. He needed to hear it; he needed Kakarot to accept his defeat aloud.

     Goku was quiet for a time, trying his best to focus. What did he need? He wanted to sleep. None of this made sense. He was on the ground, someone raging above him. He was hungry. Something important was supposed to happen today. Or tomorrow. Thirsty. A visitor, maybe. His eyes closed. Everything was too bright.

     A weight on his chest. He was drowning, an odd sensation; he was so certain he was good at swimming. Loved to swim, to be caught up amongst schools of guppies, the pressing quiet, the cool calm of the sand beds. Another world. Maybe he forgot how to swim. Dapples of light. Maybe he’d grow gills like a fish and the suffocation would end.

     Goku’s eyes fluttered opened. There was someone above him. In the fractured light of the day, he couldn’t recognize them. Whoever it was, they looked hurt, and kind of sad. Brows knit together, eyes ablaze, blood running down their face. Tired, adrift. Goku didn’t want anyone to be sad.

     “I’m sorry you’re so lonely.” Goku murmured softly, his voice warm and inviting, speech slurred and sleepy.

     “Have you lost your mind?” Vegeta blinked in bafflement, wrenching his hand back. He swore. His heart beat wildly, threatening to burst out of his chest, a sudden rush of anxiety sending it into overdrive. What the hell was Kakarot saying?

     “Vegeta…” Goku’s memory snapped back at the sound of the prince’s strained voice, an important piece clicking back into place, the battle that they just waged against each other replaying in his mind. There was no ire left within him.   “Raditz was really happy to hear from you. You’re a bit of a prick, but you're strong!  I like fighting you. We could be friends, ya know.” He’d lost, but their battle had been beautiful. He wanted to do it again.

     Goku smiled a toothy, bloodied grin, one eye swollen shut. He chuckled as his vision swam in and out of focus, catching the look of astonishment on Vegeta’s battered face. Goku reached out, fingers limp, and amicably patted the side of Vegeta’s cheek before the limb fell unceremoniously back to the ground. The bridge of Vegeta’s nose wrinkled in bewilderment, color rising in his cheeks.

     “How dare you. Don’t you pass out, not after a line like that! You idiot, wake the fuck up, I’m not done with you!” Vegeta grabbed Kakarot’s shoulder, shaking him. Kakarot eyes closed. Vegeta slapped him sharply. The beaten warrior laughed, breathy and distant, his head listing off to the side, consciousness slipping away entirely.

     Vegeta sat atop Kakarot’s silent figure for a moment, fingers still digging into his shoulder, waves of fury, confusion, and fear warring within him. He had the unshakable feeling that he had somehow made a terrible mistake. The fool had lost, so why did Vegeta feel as though he, himself, had just been defeated? The brief ramblings of a beaten man crawled and scratched and scraped his nerves, burrowed under his skin, rendered him raw, more so than any words they had exchanged during their fight. Kakarot’s strength went beyond the physical. He could read his enemies in ways that Vegeta couldn’t fathom, he picked up on nuances of emotion, and weaponized them. But not for the sake of exploitation, no. Kakarot fucking _cared_ about what his opponents had to say. And that was a dangerous skill. He could expose weaknesses that were better left dead and buried.

     A strong hand came to rest on his shoulder, shattering his thoughts.

     “Leave it alone, Vegeta. You won. Let’s get on with things, yeah?” Raditz said, quiet and calm.

     Vegeta’s tail unfurled from his waist, hanging low, the tip flicking sporadically. He said nothing.

     Bravely, or perhaps stupidly, Raditz took it upon himself to carefully remove the prince from where he perched atop his brother. Vegeta, surprisingly, did not resist, limbs like rubber as the larger warrior helped him up to stand. It reminded Raditz of when they were young, when Vegeta would revert back to his base form after clearing out entire swathes of civilization, the Oozaru form draining him, leaving him quiet and compliant, if only for a few moments.

     Vegeta started down at Kakarot, focus distant. He sniffed once, spat on the ground, and brushed away Raditz’s steadying grip.

     “We need to get him to a tank.” Raditz remarked as he crouched down to scoop up his brother, lifting the fallen warrior with ease. A husk.

     Vegeta remained silent, eyes trained on Kakarot, expression indiscernible.

     “Both of you could use one, actually.” Raditz pressed, amazed at just how much damage Vegeta had taken. Kakarot had put up a good fight, and Raditz’s scouter had confirmed that he was significantly stronger during this exchange with the prince than he had been only a week prior against him. Zenkai boosts from deadly encounters were dangerous to dabble in, but Kakarot was about to receive his second within a week. With how rough Vegeta looked, Raditz realized he very well may receive one, as well.

     “That would be ideal.” Vegeta admitted through clenched teeth, turning away. He couldn’t stand the sight of him. Kakarot looked so small in Raditz’s arms. If he survived this, the younger man would be all the stronger for it. He would need that strength in the days to come. Before this meeting, Vegeta hadn’t known that he would be the one to send Kakarot dancing on the edge of death, but he was certain this would be only one time of many. Saiyans rarely knew peace, and Kakarot had to make up for lost time, after all.

     “I’ll see what I can find nearby in this galaxy. Hopefully it’ll just be a short jump to reach some neutrals. ” Raditz affirmed, keeping his eyes fixed on Vegeta’s back. The smells and sounds from the battle consumed him, his blood boiling with the thrill of it all. He wanted so, so badly to break something, but his obligation to his prince, and now to his brother, kept him rooted to the spot. He would have to stave off his own desires until the two of them were tended to.

     “The pod, Raditz. Kakarot’s. Tell me it’s functional.” Vegeta turned back around, locking eyes with his subordinate, noting the battle lust in his eyes. He smirked. It was good to see Raditz riled up.

     “Nearly. Just need the fuel for it. I have an earthling engineering some right now, unless you brought along some to spare?” Raditz took a calming breath, adjusting his hold on his brother, slinging the younger saiyan over his shoulder like a sack of grain. No need to coddle him, his warrior blood would keep him alive. Saiyans healed with remarkable speed.  And, admittedly, he wanted to keep an arm free just incase Vegeta collapsed, which he looked likely to do at any given moment.  The smaller man had a sickly pallor to him, but his cheeks and eyes seemed red and raw, as if flushed with fever.

     “My ship is out of commission. Fuel tank burst into flames when I landed on this shithole planet. I’ll need yours. You and Kakarot will share the other.” Vegeta absently rubbed at one arm. Completely numb. The limb was unresponsive. Some type of nerve damage, perhaps. A bad sign, for certain.

     “Damn, really? We can’t leave yet, then, not without fuel. I only have enough for mine, and its not much to begin with. The earthlings have some medicine, we’ll need it if we can’t get you both to the tanks. I’ll talk to them. Get you some food, too. They’re not going to like what you did to Kakarot, but their doctors are all we have right now-“

     “Enough about the earthlings! Keep them out of my sight or I’ll destroy them. I don’t care about the details. Just get us off of this rock, and keep them well out of my way until you do.” Vegeta snapped, legs buckling. He went down hard, landing on his ass like a child after a tantrum. Dense, black clouds danced on the edges of his vision, and he gripped the side of his head with his one functional hand. He stared into his lap, trying to focus on something, anything other than the impending blackout.

     Raditz let out a small noise of concern as Vegeta went down, but before he could jump to the prince’s aid, he froze. His scouter lit up, ablaze with lively, flashing lights and symbols, frenetic tittering and beeps echoing in his ear.

     “Vegeta, is your scouter still working?” Raditz asked, clicking through several settings on his scouter, agitated at what he saw.

     “Barely. The fool shattered the display during our battle.” Vegeta muttered, absently reaching up to touch the shell of the scouter still resting on his ear, the cracked glass fracturing his sight. He counted silently in his head, concentrating on rhythmic, familiar systems to keep himself conscious.

     “We’ve got company. I’m not sure who, but there a lot of them, and there’s at least three heavy hitters.” Raditz uttered, dread lacing his words. He looked to the sky, searching frantically for the source of the disturbance. He spied the unmistakable, streaking silhouette of what looked to be a comet entering the planet's atmosphere. A distant ship. Raditz swore.

     “Impossible. I’ve been so careful. How?” Vegeta spoke in barely a whisper. He’d been followed?! Damn it! He had no energy left to fight. Raditz might be able to fend them off for a bit, depending on who pursued them… If only he had the time to recover!

     “We need to go. Now. Sorry to do this, but we’ve got no choice.” Raditz took action, awkwardly maneuvering with Kakarot still over his shoulder, crouching in order to pull Vegeta to his feet.  Once Vegeta was standing, Raditz swept his free arm around the back of prince's legs, hoisting him up and pinning the smaller warrior against his chest.  Undignified, but certainly necessary. Consequences be damned.

     Vegeta grunted out in protest, but he was teetering too close to the edge of blacking out to truly put up a fight. Instead, he allowed himself to be dragged up, bringing his good arm up to hook around Raditz's neck in order to anchor himself upright, his chin resting on the warrior's shoulder.   He would give Raditz hell for this later on, but for now he had to trust his judgement, and overlook the hold on his backside.  Vegeta allowed the rest of his body to go limp and closed his eyes, trying to regain an elusive trace of strength.  Not that it would do much in light of their new situation, but he certainly wasn't about to go down without a fight if he could help it.

     Raditz took flight once the prince had secured himself, and Vegeta's head lolled to the side, his cheek coming to rest against the cool surface of the other warrior's shoulder armor, providing a little relief to the heat of his skin. He knew that he’d been rash, that he’d provoked when he should have been at least somewhat civil.  But where did Kakarot get off, speaking to him as if they were equals?  The damn fool should have known better, should have met him with the deference and respect he was due.  If didn't matter that he'd lost his memories.  There were certain protocols to follow, and Vegeta was royalty.  Kakarot was just a third-class nobody.  With a head injury.  Who knew nothing of their culture.  A different circumstance.  A different life. Vegeta didn't owe him any special treatment!  Kindness begot weakness, and weakness wasn't an option.

      Vegeta adjusted his hold around Raditz's neck, his arm wedged in uncomfortably against Kakarot's limp form.  The prince's eyes opened with bleary resignation, catching a glimpse of the fallen warrior's resting face as it bobbed into view past the sea of Raditz's wild hair.  Vegeta glared at the sleeping figure through heavily lidded eyes.  Kakarot seemed peaceful, despite everything.  Or maybe the pleasent, relaxed expression was just that of a deadman's countenance.  Vegeta couldn't be too certain.   He stewed on what had just occurred, twisting the scene, trying to see justifications for his own actions. The very _idea_ of Kakarot incensed him, lit a fire of resentment and fury within, unlike anything he’d ever felt before.  His self-righteous attitude, his carefree demeanor in the face of a greater adversary, it was unacceptable!  The lines replayed over and over in his head, sending him spiraling with unvoiced questions in his delirium.  Why did the simple fool bother him so damn much?  And what had he meant about being lonely?  About being friends?  What the hell did he know?  He could never understand, he should have just kept his mouth shut!

_Why was **he** allowed to get in the last word!?_

     Sharp static pulled him from his thoughts.  Vegeta wrenched his head up, catching Raditz's expression, a confirmation that the other saiyan heard the same noise.  Raditz paused, hovering in midair over the small capsule house that belonged to his brother. 

     "Attention all you monkeys! If you’re listening in, you damn well better stay right where you are! I've got a bone to pick with ya. This ain’t a game of hide n’ seek, you ain’t gonna like it if I gotta hunt ya down!” A gutteral, irritated voice crackled through their scouters.

     Vegeta laughed, a hollow, insane noise.

     Raditz tightened his grip on his charges.

     “Dodoria. Fucking perfect.”  Raditz muttered, looking once more to the small, black dot in the distant sky.  Dodoria's ship.  It was still a fair ways off, but the time between was a small, threadbare gift.

     This couldn’t be happening. Things were falling apart so quickly.

     "Get us to the damn ships, Raditz."  Vegeta grit out.  He struggled to keep his head up, panting inadvertently from the exertion.   

     "I already told you, we don't have enough fuel..."

     "Then get some from those stupid earthlings you've been going on about.  Can they fight?  We need to buy some time..."  The prince wheezed, squeezing his eyes shut.  

     "You changed your tune about them pretty quickly, huh?" Raditz remarked unhelpfully.  He couldn't help but to get off a cheeky quip or two, knowing Vegeta was too weak in the moment to be any sort of threat.

     "I don't need your petty observations right now.  Just get... get the damned..."  Vegeta trailed off.  It was too much.  He'd reached his limits, slumping back against Raditz as he slipped into oblivion.  

     "Oh, come on!  Vegeta, I have no idea what to do, don't do this to me!"  Raditz yelled out in frustration, bogged down by the deadweight of his unconscious companions.  Miserably, he began his descent towards the house.  At the very least, he needed to get these two some medical attention.  He knew that he'd convinced the earthlings to flee before the fight, he just hoped they were stubborn enough to not have gone off too far. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things got a little dire this chapter whoops. But I had a lot of fun writing it even though they got really hurt ahaha...
> 
> Oh man I uh. I can't wait to get these guys into space! Within the next chapter or so, a new "arc" of this fic will start. Lemme know what you think, comments are always appreciated!


	9. Perpetual Motion (pause and perish)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all we can do is push forward.

_\-----_

_It was a familiar game._

_“Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me.” Vegeta took two wobbling steps to the right, his broken armor hanging uselessly from his frame, arms lax, covered in some kind of blood and viscera, looking positively punch-drunk._

_“Vegeta, this is no time for pride. Let me get you to a med tank.” Raditz growled, unable to school his impatience as he reached out for his comrade. He wasn’t much better off than the prince, but at least he hadn’t spent the last of his energy on a brutal rush through the main fire lines in an Oozaru rampage. Who would have thought this measly planet had the tech to actually damage a Saiyan in their peak form?_

_“I don’t need your help!” Vegeta screamed, slapping Raditz’s hand away sharply. Droplets of blood flew from his lips, splattering unceremoniously on Raditz’s face. Vegeta bristled as he recoiled away from the other man, crouching and curling in on himself like a wild, cornered animal, heaving breaths wracking his entire frame. His joints were on fire, his bones ached, his head was a fucking warzone and Raditz just stood there, open-mouthed and gaping like a fool!_

_“Let me help you. I’m here for you, Vegeta, let me do my job and protect you for once!” Raditz hovered over the smaller man, his scouter beeping as it scanned the landscape, alerting him to the nearest med tent._

_“Your ignorance keeps you fucking blinded.” Vegeta spat. “Protect me? Where the fuck were **you** out there? You feign strength, claim to be by my side as an equal? As a protector? Don’t make me laugh. I’ve been carrying your dead weight my entire life! With our people buried and gone, you’ve become my sole burden to bear until death comes for you. And it will, it will be swift and unyielding and I will be fucking grateful to be rid of you when it does!” Vegeta rambled, falling listlessly onto his backside, breath slowling, eyes glazing over._

_“You aren’t thinking straight.” Raditz’s responded, stony._

_“You don’t get to judge my mental state, weakling.” Vegeta murmured, all of the fight ebbing out of him as his eyes fluttered shut._

_“Fuck you.  Monster.” Raditz murmured as he knelt down to lift up the fallen man, resisting the urge to just leave him, to run away entirely._

_It was all too familiar a game._

\-----

 

     Raditz descended rapidly towards the house, seeking out the relative safety and shelter it provided. He landed out back, a small oath of annoyance escaping him as he maneuvered between the haphazard layout of the makeshift repair station he’d set up for the ships. While it lacked the comforts of a proper place of rest, it would have to do. Raditz carefully laid out Vegeta and Kakarot, the former groaning a bit, the latter silent, but breathing steadily.

     The situation was… not good. Raditz scratched at his scalp with both hands in frustration, eyes flicking to the pods. He had half a mind to cut his losses and just fucking _run,_ to go as far from this place as the pitiful fuel stores would take him _._ Leave his runty brother and the prince behind.

     Be done with the whole charade.

     But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t abandon them. Even if they were complete and utter fools for engaging in a battle so _devastating_.

     A skirmish (such as it would be referred to), was inevitable. They were Saiyans. Nothing mattered but strength and honor. There was no way Vegeta would have gone very long without testing the stranger in their midst. But seeing them both so thoroughly wrecked made Raditz worry at the necessity of it. It was a peculiar, unwelcome emotion, combating violently with the trilling buzz of adrenaline he felt from witnessing such a battle. Nausea found a home deep in the pit of his stomach.

     Something behind him clattered to the ground, a tinny, alarming sound amidst the relative quiet. He jumped, spinning around, ki building in his hands, violet and intense. Without pre-amble, he fired off a blast in the direction of the noise, eliciting a yell of distress from the recipient.

     One of the Earthlings leapt out into view, skidding across the ground in his urgency, the blast barely skimming past him.

     “I could have killed you! Moron!” Raditz yelled, keeping the other blast charging at the ready. He was too amped up to be dealing with such carelessness! The desire for battle still thrummed through his veins, a barely contained instinct, held back by a fragile net of self-control. He warred with his own basest instincts, wanting to tear out the nearest living creature’s throat and revel in the bloodshed.

     “W-why would you fire off suddenly like that?!” Krillin shouted, shaken from the proximity of the blast. His face turned a slight shade of green as he stared at the newly scorched pit of earth where he had stood only moments before. Too close.

     “You could have been the enemy! What are you doing here, I told you all to scatter!” Raditz growled out, reflexively blocking his two sleeping charges from view, posture defensive and coiled, tail wrapping around his waist.

     “We did. But we weren’t going to go too far, not with Son Goku fighting an insanely strong opponent like that. We were watching from a distance, not an easy thing to watch idly.” Tien remarked as he stepped into view with Chiaotzu and Yamcha in his wake. Chiaotzu hurried over to Krillin and helped him to his feet.

     “Good thing we didn’t go too far, huh? Feels like we got a real battle headed our way. Unless the guys we’re sensing are more, uh, friends of yours?” Yamcha remarked with a nervous laugh, adjusting the belt of his gi. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his brow, which he wiped away with a jumpy hand.

     “Not friends.”   Raditz stated simply, gruff and low.

     “We are not here to fight you, Raditz. Have you forgotten Son’s gesture of goodwill towards you?” Tien raised a brow, noting Raditz’s guarded stance, and the glow of ki still held fast in his hands. The saiyan blinked rapidly at being called out, rising a bit out of the fog that imminent danger had placed over his senses. He shook his head, relaxing just a bit, the energy in his hand dissipating harmlessly. The earthlings were no threat to him to begin with, and as much as he hated to admit it, he needed their aid.

     “Shit, are they okay?” Yamcha choked out, catching a glimpse of the two fallen, battered warriors behind Raditz.

     “They’re Saiyan. Of course they’re fine.” Raditz huffed out, crossing his arms, his tail uncoiling and flicking in agitation. Even in dire moments, he couldn’t shake away the bravado.

     Krillin edged forward, cowering a bit when Raditz glowered at him, but the smaller warrior brushed the look away as best as he could, his need to be at his fallen friend’s side outweighing his fear. Krillin swore softly under his breath as he knelt down next to Goku, his hands roaming gingerly over the bruises and lacerations. How was he still breathing?

     “These guys are insane…” he muttered, stuck somewhere between awe and terror at the state of his friend.

     “They’ll live. That strange medicine, the kind that Bulma gave Kakarot after our fight, do you have any of that?” Raditz addressed Tien. The others were nothing but white noise to him, tittering back and forth about the fight and the impending arrival of more enemies. The three-eyed warrior seemed to have the most sense, or at least the most composure of the group.

     “Senzu Beans? No, unfortunately not. They are slow growing, and Korin’s purse strings are a bit tight with those. But once we felt how strong your friend there is, we sent off Puar and Oolong to try and get some. Korin’s Tower is quite a ways off from here, but they’re probably there by now. Whether they can get their hands on any is different story.” Tien gestured vaguely, closing two of his eyes. The third remained fixed on Raditz, an unnerving, piercing glare.

     “We can’t rely on that, then.” Raditz scowled, glancing down at Vegeta.

     “It’s a long-shot, yeah.” Tien shrugged, masking his worry behind a cavalier attitude.

     “Do you have anything that could help them? Saiyan’s heal quickly, it’s in our blood. But this...” Raditz trailed off, a strained silence hanging at the end of his words. The unspoken potential futility chilled the group. A grim admission. He felt everyone staring at him. On the outside, he remained aloof, but internally he squirmed with discomfort and irritation. Begging for help, seeking to cover his own inadequacies and weaknesses was not a pleasant experience.

     Raditz hesitated, sensing the unasked question from the others. He knew they were wondering if he would be able to stand up to the enemies in question without the assistance of the other two saiyans, one of which surpassed him by leaps and bounds. He decide not to address it, and instead distracted himself by kneeling down to remove the cracked armor from his prince, hoping to provide him with some level of relief.

     “Smelling salts to wake them, that’s the best I’ve got.” Tien finally replied, pulling out a small drawstring pouch from his waistband, tossing the tiny thing idly in his palm.  “Otherwise, there’s not much we can do, not after a battle like that. Give me some time and I can dress their wounds, at the very least. Chiaotzu, go look inside for some bandages, surely Chi-Chi has some tucked away. And antiseptic. Boiling water if you can’t find any.” Chiaotzu nodded and ran off. Yamcha jogged off after him.

     “Time is exactly what we don’t have. Dodoria and his goons will be on us before we know it. Could be an hour, could be minutes, depending on where he lands. But fine, do what you can.“ Field medicine wasn’t Raditz’s strong suit. Nappa typically handled that sort of stuff, or whatever poor slob of a field medic was assigned to their squadron at the time. Ships equipped with healing tanks were never far off when on a dangerous enough assignment, allowing the luxury of overall recklessness. He felt well and truly helpless in this moment, a feeling he tried to push back down into the depths of his mind as he gently placed Vegeta’s armor off to the side, as well as his gloves and boots, leaving the prince looking oddly exposed in just his tattered battle-suit.

     Not quite sure what more he could do, Raditz rose and strode off towards the ships, running his hand along the paneling, lost in thought.

     “This Dodoria guy is that strong, huh?” Tien remarked, his tone chilly as he knelt down next to Vegeta, catching Krillin’s eye. Both warriors exchanged a grim look.

     “How quickly would Bulma be able to get back here with fuel?” Raditz asked dismissively, idly buffing out a mark on one of the ships with his thumb. The damn trash heaps always got so dirty.

     “You plannin’ on running?” Krillin quipped, his tone full of scorn.

     “Make no mistake, Dodoria is after Vegeta and me.  If we run, he’ll follow.  Probably.  There’s really no reason for him to stay or endanger this planet.  As far as he knows, it’s a random rendezvous point.” Raditz stated, perhaps with more ire than he intended.

     “But you’re not certain of that. You could be leaving us bare-assed against an enemy that thoroughly outclasses us.” Tien snapped, not understanding how Raditz could suggest such a selfish tactic. He was in large part responsible for all of this trouble, after all.

     Raditz nodded sternly. “It’s the best idea I have.”

     The finality of Radtiz’s tone sent a shockwave through the others. Before a heated rebuttal could escape him, Tien’s attention refocused as Chiaotzu and Yamcha returned with cloth bandages and various ointments. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

     “We’ll wake them after dressing these wounds.” Tien murmured, taking a handful of the bandages and handing them off to Krillin. The group of them got to work in silence, daubing away blood, disinfecting deep cuts, applying salves to bruises. He raised a brow in surprise, noting that most of the superficial scrapes and cuts that he noticed only minutes before had already healed over.

     Krillin cautiously propped Goku up, pulling away the tatters of the top of the warrior’s gi, revealing a tapestry of horrifying bruises blossoming across his chest. Veins ruptured with sickly yellow and deep, deep purple hues, dark and vicious. Several of his lower ribs jutted out in macabre, splintered patterns under the skin, ground forwards with each slow intake of breath. With Chiaotzu’s help, the two of them tentatively bandaged Goku’s chest, for all the good it would do.

     Vegeta was not much better off, Tien noted with a small sense of pride. Good. A small smile threatened to pull at the edge of his lips. Son Goku was a formidable opponent, after all.

     Raditz bristled as the three-eyed man carefully felt along Vegeta’s limbs. Tien shot him a knowing glance, and having no choice but to trust him, Raditz relented. Tien found that the man’s left arm was swollen and hot to the touch. He felt what seemed to be a singular break in the humerus, the clean break a small, merciful blessing. He cut away the remains of Vegeta’s battle suit from the afflicted limb before carefully setting and wrapping it. Tien then removed the top part of his own gi, fashioning the green cloth into a makeshift sling, locking Vegeta’s arm securely in place. It was a quick and dirty solution, but it would have to do.

     “That’s going to have to do…” Tien murmured, sitting back on his haunches with a sigh. Suddenly, his head whipped up, his eyes narrowing as he stared up to the roof of the house. He muttered a small oath, climbing to his feet.

     “Oi, Piccolo, get down here. We could use your input.” Tien called out, unable to mask the irritation in his voice. Raditz followed Tien’s gaze, jumping slightly in surprise as he caught sight of the silhouette of a tall figure, cloak flowing dramatically in the breeze. The figure jumped down, landing well enough away from the rest of the group.

     Raditz stiffened, staring daggers at the newcomer. It wasn’t the first time since his arrival on earth that he resented the earthling’s abilities to mask and sense energy. Tricky stuff. He tapped his scouter, trying to get an accurate read on the newcomer, but the results were frustratingly useless. Raditz narrowed his eyes. Something was odd about this one… Definitely not of earth, which surprised the saiyan.

     “I’m not a healer. You’ll have to help these idiots, yourself.” Piccolo commented tersely.   The new arrival drew himself up in a self-important, defiant way. Black eyes bored fiercely towards the group of warriors, his glare lingering on Raditz, who bristled further and sent back a withering stare in kind.

     “No, not about that. We need to talk about the guys that are headed our way. You think we can take them?” Tien inquired, refocusing on his patients, willfully oblivious to the newfound tension heralded by Piccolo’s arrival.

     “Mmm. I’ve no doubt I can hold my own. The big guy over there should be fine. Maybe. You weaklings are another story.” Piccolo replied, the curt and condescending nature of his tone rewarding him with a volley of caustic looks. He flicked his hand dismissively over the hodgepodge assembly of warriors and broken men on the ground.

     “Oh that’s rich, you think you can hold your own, huh? A Namekian that can fight, I’ve never heard of such a thing. What are doing on this planet, anyways? Growing a nice little garden somewhere?” Raditz interjected, grasping to remember Namekian specifics.

     “A what?” Krillin asked, looking up. He’d been busy wrapping what was probably way too many bandages around Goku’s head, the unconscious warrior’s hair spiking comically out between layers of gauze.

     “The green guy. He’s a Namekian. His planet is quite a ways away from this system, I’m amazed he made it out this far, they aren’t exactly the space-faring type.” Raditz affirmed, gesturing rudely towards the new arrival.  He tried to not smirk at the sight of Krillin’s makeshift bandaging.

     “I don’t know about all that. Just stop provoking each other, for Kami’s sake.” Krillin‘s plea for peace went largely unheard, as Piccolo let out a short bark of laughter at the very suggestion.

     “I was watching those idiots fight, and I can sense how strong you are, despite how stupid you seem. If they were any indication, you should be enough to clean up this mess. Now gather yourself and drive those assholes off of my planet!” Piccolo stated, pointing an accusatory finger at Raditz.

     “Your planet? Wow. A Namekian bent on dominating other planets. First time for everything, I guess.” Raditz scoffed, hands raised in mock surprise. He could feel his blood boiling with the thrill of a fight again. This guy was really testing his patience. He could feel his very spirit screaming for battle, and the Namekian posed the perfect opportunity to blow off some pent up aggression.

     “Enough, guys, let’s play nice for now, okay? We have to have a united front or we’re gonna die.” Yamcha interceded, sounding bolder than he felt.  

     “And these two animals had to go and destroy each other. If only they had finished each other off for good. Would have been able to politely ask the incoming aliens to take their corpses and be on their way.” Piccolo continued on as if he hadn’t heard Yamcha, gesturing angrily towards the two fallen saiyans, the ire in his tone putting everyone on edge.

     “Come off it for five seconds, Piccolo. You hate Son Goku, we get it! But this is a serious situation. Even you gotta be able to realize that. Come on, try and be an ally to us, even just for a day?” Yamcha called out in exasperation.

     “As if having this green bastard is going to make any difference. He’s gonna get shot down at the very first volley, just you wait and see. I’d rather take my chances against a whole fleet than listen to his unfounded arrogance for one more second.” Raditz spat, ramming his fist against the side of one of the ships, redirecting his rage so he didn’t blow the Namekian straight to hell.

     “Enough! With Son passed out and your buddy out of commission, Piccolo is the strongest fighter on Earth other than you right now. I’d like for us to maintain a temporary truce, for the sake of the planet.” Tien yelled, thoroughly fed up with them both. Raditz sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes and mumbling out some manner of affirmation. Piccolo remained silent.

     “Piccolo? What do you think, just for the day?” The three-eyed warrior rose and strode towards Piccolo, a hand extended in a gesture of goodwill. Piccolo stared at the proffered hand for a moment, but didn’t take it. He did acquiesce after a moment with a small nod. For Tien, that was enough. The three-eyed warrior returned to where the unconscious warriors lay, slapping bandages from Krillin’s hands before he made Goku look entirely like a mummy.

     “We’re pretty screwed, huh?” Krillin said softly, hands retreating to his lap. He’d patched up Goku as best as he could, but didn’t move from his side.

     “What do we do?” Chiaotzu queried, moving to Tien’s side. The proximity of his best friend did little to calm his nerves.

     “We stand and fight as best as we can. If we can fend them off for a bit, Puar and Oolong just might make it back in time with some Senzu beans...” Tien placed a hand on Chiaotzu’s head, hoping with all his might he sounded more assured than he felt.

     “Y’know, Bulma mentioned that she three of the dragon balls gathered. Gohan’s makes four. I told her if things get hairy to get ready to gather the last one. We might be in rough odds, but if any of us goes down, at least she’ll be able to revive us.” Yamcha pointed out with a shrug.

     “What are you babbling on about?” Raditz asked sharply, coming to attention from where he leaned against the ship.

     “Oh, Yamcha…” Krillin groaned, slapping a palm against his forehead in exasperation.

     “Oh ah! Don’t worry about it. Earthling stuff.” Yamcha said a bit too quickly, paired with a dismissive wave.

     “No, no, this is important. You have a way to resurrect the dead? What exactly do you mean?” Raditz stalked over to Yamcha, gripping into the front of the smaller man’s gi and leaning in a bit too close.

     “I-It’s a little more, ahh, complicated than that!” Yamcha stammered out, putting his hands up in placation as Raditz pulled him up enough to force him to balance on his toes. “We have a way of getting pretty much any wish granted. But there are certain limits…”

     “He doesn’t need this information.   He’s no better than the enemies headed our way.” Piccolo strode forward and grappled Raditz’s wrist away from Yamcha. Raditz shook off his hold, eyes ablaze with rage.

     “Until moments ago, you were the enemy, too. We have bigger things to worry about. Raditz is an ally in this, he deserves to know about the dragon balls as an absolute _last resort_. Now both of you, back off!” Tien interjected sternly, boldly shoving himself between Raditz and Piccolo before a damn war broke out. This was becoming far more of a hassle than he ever could have imagined, and if they started fighting for real, he wasn’t certain he would be able to stop them.

     “We have no more time left to waste. Yamcha, get Bulma on the phone. If she can get the fuel that she’s been engineering back here, that would be a great help. Roshi is with her, so if we can meet the enemies further afield, away from the house, she should be safe. Let’s get these two awake. We must prepare ourselves for the worst.” Tien spoke with a level of certainty that rallied his friends. Everyone seemed to stand a little bit taller, determined. Yamcha ran inside to get ahold of Bulma.

     “So you think we should run, then?” Raditz quirked a brow, motioning to the two fallen warriors and then himself.

     “No. But if things become dire and the only way to overcome the enemy is to get them to chase you, we’d better make sure you have enough fuel to get far the fuck away from us.” Tien replied gruffly, crossing his arms.

     “Fine. And don’t think I’m forgetting about those wish things! Dragon balls, you called them? You will be explaining this further to me.” Raditz grit out, filing the tidbit of info away for later.

     “Another time. If we survive this I’ll tell you all about them. I promise.” Tien said grimly.

     “Fine.” Raditz grit out after a time, huffing air loudly through his nostrils. “Get on with it, then. Wake them up.”

 

\-----

 

_“Goku, what is the most noble virtue one can embrace?”_

_“Virtue? What’s that? Is it tasty?” The child perked up, eyeing the platter his grandfather brought over to the table._

_“We’ve been through this before, think about it, my boy.” The old man chuckled, pushing a small tray lined with sweet, dried fruits towards his grandson._

_“Virtue, virtue…” Goku chewed on the word the same way he munched through the sweet morsels; with great effort and concentration.  “Oh! That’s about being good and honorable-like, right Grandpa?”_

_“Very much so.”_

_Goku scrunched up his face in deliberation, trying his best to discern the best answer to give his Grandpa Gohan while sucking bits of the sinewy fruits from his teeth, gnashing his fingernails into the spaces between his gums to extract the rest. He became distracted from the task after a bit, coming up answerless._

_“Kindness, Goku. Above all else, be kind. As a martial artist, you will encounter many who will attack you from a place of malcontent. Meet them with kindness, and you will persevere.”_

_“Mmm, I’ll try, Grandpa. It sounds silly, on accounta fightin’ makes me feel all good and mean at the same time and stuff. But if bein’ kind is the right thing, then I’ll try!”_

_Gohan laughed, patting Goku jovially on the back. Goku’s round face split into a joyful grin in return._

 

_\-----_

 

     Through the fog, through the dense, white haze, a voice, insistent, desperate. Calling for him. He couldn’t place the words, but he knew they were meant for him.

     Panic rose, bile in his throat, his bones aching. Where was he? Who was calling out for him? And why did everything _hurt_?

     Goku lurched up, his whole body spasming as it met heavy resistance. He was trapped, weighed down by some unknown force. He had to escape!

     “…ku? Hey, Goku, wake up!”

     “Calm down, Goku! You’re injured, you shouldn’t move so suddenly.”

     Wait. There was something familiar in those voices.

     With great effort, Goku opened his eyes, his vision bleary and clouded, like trying to see a reflection in a bathroom mirror after a particularly hot shower. The pressure on his body, his friends’ hands, he realized, slowly lifted, the sense of suffocation trickling away as he blinked and brought them all into focus.

     “Good morning, Goku! How ya feeling, buddy?” Krillin chirped, voice teeming with relief.

     “Ahh man, like I got ran over by a truck!” he groaned out, his tongue flagging clumsily around the words. He tried to lift his head, but only succeeded in making himself dizzy. After a moment, his friends helped him sit up. He was grateful for their steadying hands.   “And then they backed up over me a few times ta try and finish th’ job!”

     “Haha, no kidding! That’s exactly how you look, too!” Krillin snickered, patting Goku’s arm affably.

     “Glad to have you awake again, Son. We have a situation…” Tien began, wishing they had the luxury to allow Goku to rest.

     “Waoh! Jr. is here, too? Am I hallucinatin’? This must be serious!” Goku squawked, pointing quite rudely at Piccolo, who bristled with outrage. Goku grimaced at the spike of pain that shot through his whole body from such a small movement.

     “Shut up, Son. I ought to kill you while you’re down.” Piccolo grit out, seething. He had a sudden, pounding headache, and he just _knew_ it was directly related to his rival’s newfound consciousness.

     “Aww, you’re more honorable than that, Piccolo!” Goku croaked out, a huge grin stretching across his features.

     “Don’t be so certain.”  

     “I’d be dead already if you weren’t!” Goku shrugged, groaning at the shooting the pain in his ribs that blossomed from the simple gesture. He took a slow, deep breath; a feat in itself. He realized that he might not even be able to stand at the moment, taking in the gravity of his injuries. He stretched his legs out, trying to relieve aching muscles. His knee knocked against something solid off to his side.

     He froze.

     His friends started chattering at him, discussing something about an upcoming battle, but Goku stopped listening. He was too busy staring at the body next to him. The world went quiet.

     Vegeta lay beside him, looking… serene?   Despite how _battered_ he was? Flashes of the battle they had just waged flitted across Goku’s mind, crashing against him in chaotic, storm-riled waves. Black, fathomless eyes, conflicted and riddled with worry, stared balefully at the sleeping warrior. How could he lay there so peacefully, when his personality was that of a ticking time bomb?

     Goku carefully drew his knees up to his chest, wincing. He wrapped his arms around himself, his eyes never leaving Vegeta.

     They had almost killed each other. It wasn’t a joke. A far cry from a friendly match, no simple poking and prodding while trying to gauge skill and strength. It had been a bloodbath. Worst of all, he, himself, had risen to the bait so easily. Vegeta’s antagonizing words, his brutal nature, it had sparked something within Goku, something primal and raw, something savage. He rested his cheek against his knee, narrowing his eyes as he stared at Vegeta.

     Goku had fought for his life before in the past, but something about this match sent him to such a distant, foreign, _desperate_ place, leaving him with a sense of hollowness, of loss.

     Something in him felt _changed_.

     Goku felt something akin to pity towards the other man. Vegeta fought this battle as if it were his last, despite rattling off words of confidence to the contrary. Did every battle he fought have this level of hopelessness, of finality to it? Goku scrunched up his face in worry. He had always fought to get stronger, for the fun of it, for the thrill of it.

     Vegeta fought to kill.

     Part of him _hoped_ that Vegeta would never wake, that he would never have to face an opponent like him again, that he wouldn’t have to confront and embrace the darkest parts of his own instincts and he could just pretend like none of this had ever happened.

     Part of him _feared_ that Vegeta would never wake, that he would never again have an opportunity to challenge someone so powerful and dangerous, that he’d have to return to his sheltered life on earth, that he would have to reject the basest instincts within himself like none of this had ever happened.

     Tien came into his line of sight, kneeling over Vegeta, instructing Raditz to hold down his shoulders, much in the same way that had been done to Goku moments before. He watched in fascination as Tien held a small vile under the slumbering warrior’s nose. Vegeta’s nostrils twitched, letting out a small, definitive puff of air before his nose wrinkled in disgust. Dark lashes fluttered, but his eyes refused to open. Raditz spoke soft phrases in his native tongue, coaxing. Oddly gentle.

     Goku’s breath caught in his throat.

 

 

_\-----_

_“Prince Vegeta. Another deployment.” King Vegeta held out the tablet, barely looking his son in the eye. The young prince took hold of the tablet, focusing on the bright text on the softly glowing screen, trying to drown out how small he felt in the vastness of the massive, echoing throne room._

_The young prince was silent, reading over the missive. Another planetary purge, grants for an accompanying team, timeframes, supplies, an endless list of details and facts all blurring together into one monotonous stream of text._

_His eyes came to rest on the deployment date._

_His heart sank._

_“Father, I only just returned home this morning.” Prince Vegeta stated, eyes flicking up to the King’s, carefully schooling away any tone that could be mistaken as complaint, instead just stating it as cold, hard fact._

_"You have. And tomorrow, you leave once more. I’ve told you before, your conscription shall be especially rigorous given your strength and pedigree. Lord Frieza is quite pleased with you thus far. Keep it that way.”   The King eyed his son, his gaze taciturn, obstinate._

_“Of course, Father.” The young Prince replied in short measure, the argument over before it had a chance to even manifest. He swallowed, the noise echoing in his ears, staring past the King._

_“Our crest, Vegeta. What does it represent?”_

_"Pride, Strength, and Integrity. Unyielding.” Prince Vegeta recited automatically, the words hollow, resonating through the hall._

_“Unyielding.” King Vegeta gave his son a tight-lipped smile, a gloved hand coming to rest for but a moment, and no more, on the boy’s shoulder._

 

_\-----_

 

     A deep, familiar voice broke through the haze. Dark eyes snapped open, bleary, distant, frantic. Pain. Pain lanced through the very core of his being.

     This was wrong.

     He remained stock still, eyes darting around, trying to make sense of everything. A horrendous odor filled his senses, chasing away any and all reasonable measure of thought. He tensed his body, preparing to raze whomever, whatever was around him to the ground when a familiar voice broke through the smog in his mind.

     Raditz.

     “<Ugh, what is that vile smell?>” Vegeta rasped, disoriented. He dimly swatted away the vial under his nose before bringing a hand to his forehead, shuttering his eyes closed against the light.

     “<Thank the gods. You had me worried there for a minute, Vegeta. Kakarot got you pretty good.>” Raditz muttered quietly, removing his hands from where he had them pinned on his prince’s shoulders. Tien backed away, leaving the two to confer softly with each other.

     “<Don’t be foolish. Bold of you to assume that any situation is beyond my control.>” Vegeta ground out, cursing internally at the strain in his voice. The day’s events came rushing back to him, a harbinger to the assault of aches and ambient, searing pains that riddled his body.

     “<Whatever you say, my Prince.>” Raditz chuckled darkly, scratching the side of his nose. Everyone was starting at them, he realized. He locked eyes with Kakarot, who wore an uncharacteristic look of hostility on his face.

     “<I’ve no patience for your mockery or attitude, Raditz. Don’t test me.>” Vegeta’s eyes snapped open as he jabbed his index finger roughly into the dip between Raditz’s clavicle, eliciting a grunt from the larger saiyan.

     “Prince Vegeta, about the matter of Dodoria…” Raditz cleared his throat after the small assault, switching to Galactic Standard so that the earthlings would understand. “He’ll be here soon. We need to figure out a plan.”

     “<Get me something to eat.>” Vegeta spat out, waving away whatever Raditz was about to launch into. It could wait. Everything and everyone else could wait until he had some food.

     “But, Vegeta…”

     “<Food. Now. I don’t care.>” Vegeta sat up, using his one good arm to gain leverage while suppressing a groan of pain. He eyed the sling around his left arm with disgust. That disgust carried through as he glared with unmasked aggression at the amalgamation of people surrounding him. Finally, he realized that Kakarot was sitting right next to him, staring him down. Vegeta scowled back at the fool, bristling at the proximity, silently _daring_ the other man to so much as even _breathe_ in his direction.

     No one moved.

     A devious grin broke out across Goku’s face.

     “Yo! Vegeta! It’s about time you woke up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back, baybey! Did I mention that this was a slow burn type fic? I think I mentioned that. Ah well. I'm taking my time and enjoying the ride, I don't want to compromise on building foundations. Thanks for sticking with me!
> 
> Had to break this chapter up, it was getting too long. Such is my curse! I'd had this written for quite some time, I just couldn't figure out where to break it up, so I apologize if it feels abrupt but there's mooore on the waaay~


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